If I were a doe, dear, and you were a brook, Ah, what would I do then, think you? I would kneel by your bank, in the grasses dank, And drink you, drink you, drink you. 

Ah, what would I do then, think you?

And drink you, drink you, drink you.

 

 VI. 

 Time owes me such a heavy debt, How can he ever make things right? For suns that with no promise set To help me greet the morning light, 

How can he ever make things right?

To help me greet the morning light,

 For dreams that no fruition met, For joys that passed from bud to blight, Time owes me such a heavy debt; How can he ever make things right? 

For joys that passed from bud to blight,

How can he ever make things right?

 For passions balked, with strain and fret Of hopes delayed, or perished quite, For kisses that I did not get On many a love impelling night, Time owes me such a heavy debt; How can he ever make things right? 

Of hopes delayed, or perished quite,

On many a love impelling night,

How can he ever make things right?

 

 VII. 

 As the king bird feeds on the heart of the bee, So would I feed on the sweets of thee. 

 As the south wind kisses the leaf at will, From the leaf of thy lips I would drink my fill. 

 As the sun pries into the heart of a rose, I would pry in thy heart, and its thoughts disclose. 

 Prev. P 52/69 next