LOVE-DOUBT.

Yearning upon the faint rose-curves that flit

About her child-sweet mouth and innocent cheek,

And in her eyes watching with eyes all meek

The light and shadow of laughter, I would sit

Mute, knowing our two souls might never knit;

As if a pale proud lily-flower should seek

The love of some red rose, but could not speak

One word of her blithe tongue to tell of it.

For oh, my Love was sunny-lipped and stirred

With all swift light and sound and gloom not long

Retained; I, with dreams weighed, that ever heard

Sad burdens echoing through the loudest throng

She, the wild song of some May-merry bird;

I, but the listening maker of a song.