 | The silver bridge and other poems |  |
45
LINES TO A TUSCAN AIR.
My heart has learned a simple song,
More sweet than summer birds'—
Its burden lasts the whole day long,
Though few and brief the words;
And thus in sun and shadow,
I sing it o'er and o'er—
“My love! my love!
My love forevermore!”
More sweet than summer birds'—
Its burden lasts the whole day long,
Though few and brief the words;
And thus in sun and shadow,
I sing it o'er and o'er—
“My love! my love!
My love forevermore!”
The golden light may leave the sky,
The gloomy clouds may frown—
The flowers may close, the winds may cry,
The mournful rain come down;
Yet though the tempests gather,
I carol as before—
“My love! my love!
My love forevermore!”
The gloomy clouds may frown—
The flowers may close, the winds may cry,
The mournful rain come down;
Yet though the tempests gather,
I carol as before—
“My love! my love!
My love forevermore!”
And years may pass and youth may go,
And morning dreams depart,
And time may bring me care and woe,
It cannot break my heart—
In life or death exulting,
My joy I still outpour—
“My love! my love!
My love forevermore!”
And morning dreams depart,
And time may bring me care and woe,
It cannot break my heart—
46
My joy I still outpour—
“My love! my love!
My love forevermore!”
| The silver bridge and other poems | |