Only Waiting

   [A very aged man in an almshouse was asked what he was doing now. He replied, “Only waiting.”] ONLY waiting till the shadows   Are a little longer grown, Only waiting till the glimmer   Of the day’s last beam is flown; Till the night of earth is faded   From the heart, once full of day; Till the stars of heaven are breaking   Through the twilight soft and gray. Only waiting till the reapers   Have the last sheaf gathered home, For the summer time is faded,   And the autumn winds have come. Quickly, reapers! gather quickly   The last ripe hours of my heart, For the bloom of life is withered,   And I hasten to depart. Only waiting till the angels   Open wide the mystic gate, At whose feet I long have lingered,   Weary, poor, and desolate. Even now I hear the footsteps,   And their voices far away; If they call me, I am waiting,   Only waiting to obey. Only waiting till the shadows   Are a little longer grown, Only waiting till the glimmer   Of the day’s last beam is flown. Then from out the gathered darkness,   Holy, deathless stars shall rise, By whose light my soul shall gladly   Tread its pathway to the skies.