IF.

Dear love, if you and I could sail away,

With snowy pennons to the winds unfurled,

Across the waters of some unknown bay,

And find some island far from all the world;

If we could dwell there, ever more alone,

While unrecorded years slip by apace,

Forgetting and forgotten and unknown

By aught save native song-birds of the place;

If Winter never visited that land,

And Summer's lap spilled o'er with fruits and flowers,

And tropic trees cast shade on every hand,

And twinèd boughs formed sleep-inviting bowers;

If from the fashions of the world set free,

And hid away from all its jealous strife,

I lived alone for you, and you for me —

Ah! then, dear love, how sweet were wedded life.

But since we dwell here in the crowded way,

Where hurrying throngs rush by to seek for gold,

And all is common-place and work-a-day,

As soon as love's young honeymoon grows old;

Since fashion rules and nature yields to art,

And life is hurt by daily jar and fret,

‘ Tis best to shut such dreams down in the heart

And go our ways alone, love, and forget.