For that Thou pointest further still
Than that dumb hand upon the hour
Nor givest the boon to sap the will,
I thank Thee, wise and tender power.
For that Thou givest my soul some pride,
Not grudging sorrow for a mate,
For this my wild and lovely bride
I thank Thee, just, compassionate.
For that Thou givest my soul some strength
Of that high strength which rules the stars,
To brave the time and wait the length,
I bless Thy name and kiss my scars.