A

A

A

None but thyself, and I am fain to live

To watch the outcome of so fair a gift,—

To see the bright good morrow loom and lift,

And know that thou,—unpeer'd beneath the moon,—

Untamed of men,—untutor'd to the tune

Of lip with lip,—wilt cease thy coy disdain

And learn the languors of the loves of June.

viii.

[29] 

[29]

All that I am, and all I hope to be,

A

A

A

Is thine till death; and though I die for thee

Each day I live; and though I throb and thrill

At thoughts that seem to burn me, and to chill,

 Prev. P 21/142 next