
The poem portrays a speaker aching through the last three days of separation before seeing a beloved again. Neither love nor divine power can shorten the physical distance between them, and the speaker finds waiting almost contrary to love itself. Imagination rises like a flood over the barren intervening days, vividly conjuring the beloved as “my lord, my light, my good,” but this vision is only a frail screen of fancy. Reality returns abruptly: until the promised day and the sight of the beloved’s face, the speaker must still endure “to-day, to-morrow, and its mate.”
By Marie Van Vorst · First published 1917 · Genre: Lyric Poetry, Love Poetry, Romantic Poetry · 213 words
Not love's command / Could dry one league of sea; / Or even God's hand / Fold up one mile of land, / To bring you sooner unto me!
There are but three more days to climb -- / To-day, to-morrow, and its mate, / Till that day! . Did love know to wait / Would it be love? Not in my time / Or in my blood! / My thought, elate, / Swells like a rising sea to flood / Covering barren days between / And brings you (as love should) / Till you stand there -- my lord, my light, my good! . / Ere the frail screen / Of fancy falls to my embrace / Sudden, the spell snaps short to Fate! / Till that day -- when I see your face -- / There are still three dark days to climb, / To-day, to-morrow, and its mate.
Three Days More is listed on Textopian as a poem by Marie Van Vorst, dated 1917 CE.
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fiction · novel · early twentieth century · American literature · romance · drama · society · relationships · marriage · emotional conflict · social conventions · character study