to his (future) wife

About Her whom I have not yet met


I wonder what she is doing


Now, at this sunset hour,


Working perhaps, or playing, worrying or laughing,


Is she making tea, or singing a song, or writing,


or praying, or reading?


Is she thoughtful, as I am thoughtful?


Is she looking now out of the window


As I am looking out of the window?








A wan new garment of young green,


Touched, as you turned your soft brown hair;


And in me surged the strangest prayer


Ever in lover's heart hath been.


That I who saw your youth's bright page,


A rainbow change from robe to robe,


Might see you on this earthly globe,


Crowned with the silver crown of age.


Your dear hair powdered in strange guise,


Your dear face touched with colours pale,


And gazing through the mask and veil


The mirth of your immortal eyes.

-GK Chesterton