IF only a single Rose is left, Why should the summer pine? A blade of grass in a rocky cleft; A single star to shine. —Why should I sorrow if all be lost, If only thou art mine? If only a single Bluebell gleams Bright on the barren heath, Still of that flower the summer dreams, Not of his August wreath. —Why should I sorrow if thou art mine, Love, beyond change and death? If only once on a wintry day The sun shines forth in the blue, He gladdens the groves till they laugh as in May And dream of the touch of the dew. —Why should I sorrow if all be false, If only thou art true? |