Love Grows Slowly Poem by David Lewis Paget

You of the winter eye
Hoar frost and crab tree
Eyelids of ice, you lie
Beside and beyond me.

Cold are the storms of you
That scatter your needings,
Deep are the wells you fill
With other men's readings.

Leaving me wait for grace
And the autumn, its crowning,
Deep in the golden leaves
Here am I, drowning.

Playing that patience, time...
That measures us only,
Whisper the one true line -
Love grows slowly.

3 June 1985