Or is it but the passion heat of Summer,
That you mistake for love within your heart?
And will not Winter, that unwelcome comer,
With his cold, scornful sneers, make it depart?
Have not the subtle odors of the flowers
Drugged you, and made you drunk with rare perfumes?
And when the winter crashes through the bowers,
Will not your love fade, with the fading blooms?
If so, I will not listen to your wooing;
And I will turn from words and glances sweet.
Because I will not hear a drunkard's suing--
Drunken with rose-scents, and the summer heat.
But if you woo me, in sound mind, and reason,
And can convince me fully it is so,
And that your love will last through any season,
Why then, my answer will not quite be--No.
1870
[IF YOU HAD BEEN TRUE]
Love, in the glow of the sunset,
I have been thinking of you.
Thinking what you might have made me,
If you had been constant and true.
You know I built wonderful castles,
And you had a part in them all;
But you cheated me, Love, you remember.
And down fell each beautiful wall.
Well, you see I lost faith in all women--
The very worst thing I could do.
Thought they were all of one pattern,
And that was inconstant, untrue.
I know it was but a mad fancy:
Know women are truer than men.
But I wish I had found it out sooner,
Or could live my life over again.
For you see I have wasted my manhood;
I don't really care to tell how.
And if I could live it all over,
I think I could better it now.
I would marry some nice little woman--
Some other, if I couldn't get you.
And I would be tender and faithful,
And she would be constant and true.
1870
[AFLOAT]
Once there was a boat, locked fast to a shore,
But rust ate the chain, day by day,
And the boat was loosened more and more,
As the fastenings slipped away.
Yet, any day, an outstretched hand,
Could have caught, and locked it again to land.