Tho’ I get home how late — how late —
So I get home – ’twill compensate —
Better will be the Ecstasy
That they have done expecting me —
When Night — descending — dumb — and dark —
They hear my unexpected knock —
Transporting must the moment be —
Brewed from decades of Agony!
To think just how the fire will burn —
Just how long-cheated eyes will turn —
To wonder what myself will say,
And what itself, will say to me —
Beguiles the Centuries of way!
maybe this life full of expectation is long as centuries of way for us to beguile, ecstasy and transporting belong only to them in another world who is waitng for us
It is pleasurable to think of the joy that reuniting with friends will bring.