 | Love-Lore (1895) |  |
WEED-LIKE
Did you not say you loved me?
And I—Enough, your word
I could not doubt,—I heard.
What change hath now removed me
Out of the garden of your thought,
As if I were a weed unsought?
And I—Enough, your word
I could not doubt,—I heard.
What change hath now removed me
Out of the garden of your thought,
As if I were a weed unsought?
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The flower of love you cherish'd
In me (I had your word,
That like some passing bird
Dropp'd a fair seed), unperish'd,
Must it be only weeded out
By that worst foe of the garden, Doubt?
In me (I had your word,
That like some passing bird
Dropp'd a fair seed), unperish'd,
Must it be only weeded out
By that worst foe of the garden, Doubt?
O Love! who this forsaking
Seëst, I have no word
Of prayer; but thou hast heard,
And carest for this heart-aching.
Thine is the hurt when in dark hours
Men cast away thy very flowers.
Seëst, I have no word
Of prayer; but thou hast heard,
And carest for this heart-aching.
Thine is the hurt when in dark hours
Men cast away thy very flowers.
| Love-Lore (1895) | |