If we could but Collect the Gold we Lend!
Ah, Love! could Thou and I Creation run,
How Different our Scheme! The Summer's sun
Would see another Springtime blossoming,
Another Summer's Rose to Follow On!
And Leaning from the Sky a Little Star
Would Tell Us from the Canopy afar
What now we Grope for in the Dinky-dink,
And wonder blindly, vaguely, What we Are!
And when Alone you dream your fancies ripe,