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Robert Laurence Binyon - The Promise
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What wonder of what hope do you enfold,
 Whose eyes are all filled with futurity?
 What shape of more than beauty would you mould
 With desire`s strength out of the dim to--be?

 Your bosom is the haunt of holy fears.
 Shadows are all about you, whispering
 Deep words and glorious names from the full years;
 But like the stars in heaven your pulses sing

 Of a voice sweeter than all tones yet heard;
 Of a heart richer than the summer`s store;
 Of earth awakened from old bonds and spurred
 To run a new race for her conqueror.

 You wait, with thoughts all glowing, like the Night;
 And in you buds the flower, the marvel, Light.
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