VI
I plucked a daisy in the fields,
And there beneath the sun
I let its silver petals fall
One after one.
I said, "He loves me, loves me not,"
And oh, my heart beat fast,
The flower was kind, it let me say
"He loves me," last.
I kissed the little leafless stem,
But oh, my poor heart knew
The words the flower had said to me,
They were not true.
VII
I sent my love a letter,
And if he loves me not,
He shall not find my love for him
In any line or dot.
But if he loves me truly,
He'll find it hidden deep,
As dawn gleams red thro' chilly clouds
To eyes awaked from sleep.
VIII
The world is cold and gray and wet,
And I am heavy-hearted, yet
When I am home and look to see
The place my letters wait for me,
If I should find ONE letter there,
I think I should not greatly care
If it were rainy or were fair,
For all the world would suddenly
Seem like a festival to me.