Is that the things I love, the tender way
Of mastery, the kisses that are dear
As Heaven's best gifts, to other lips and arms
Owe half their blessedness and all their charms.

Tell me that I am wrong, O! Man of men,
Surely it is not hard to comfort me,
Laugh at my fears with dear persistency,
Nay, if thou must, lie to me! There, again,
I hear the rain, and the wind's wailing cry
Stirs with wild life the night's monotony.




Song.

If I had known
That when the morrow dawned the roses would be dead
I would have filled my hands with blossoms white and red.
If I had known!

If I had known
That I should be to-day deaf to all happy birds
I would have lain for hours to listen to your words.
If I had known!

If I had known
That with the morning light you would be gone for aye
I would have been more kind;--sweet Love had won his way