Faith

If that drop doesn't fall
Before ten's count,
In cheer, I'll know it all
Her love's account.

So, off I start to reckon.
I watch it slide on a "5".
Though I rush through the "7"
It fell 'fore "9" did arrive.

"Was it a slow counting
Or was it destiny's sly,
With a leaf left panting
And a tear in my eye?"

Alas! I think t'was my sloth.
I shall count a dew again.
An omen stirred in love's broth
Is His Nod to a man's yen.