Thou wilt come with suddenness, 
 Like a gull between the waves, 
Or a snowdrop that doth press 
 Through the white shroud on the graves; 
Like a love too long withheld, 
That at last has over-welled. 
 
What if we have waited long, 
 Brooding by the Southern Pole, 
Where the towering icebergs throng, 
 And the inky surges roll: 
What can all their terror be 
When thy fond winds compass thee? 
 
They shall blow through all the land 
 Fragrance of thy cloudy throne, 
Underneath the rainbow spanned 
 Thou wilt enter in thine own, 
And the glittering earth shall shine 
Where thy footstep is divine