Wise Man

Had I but met your gaze as now I met it-- But how can you that live but where we go In the uncertainty of dizzy dreams Know why we doubt? Parting, sickness and death, The rotting of the grass, tempest and drouth, These are the messengers that came to me. Why are you silent? You carry in your hands God's pardon, and you will not give it me. Why are you silent? Were I not afraid, I'd kiss your hands--no, no, the hem of your dress.