IF.
55
It had been well for you,—for me how blessed!
But shall we ask the wind to blow for aye
From the same quarter,—keep as full for ever
The white moon smiling in a changeless sky?
But shall we ask the wind to blow for aye
From the same quarter,—keep as full for ever
The white moon smiling in a changeless sky?
Change is the law of wind and moon and lover,—
And yet, I think, lost Love, had you been true,
Some golden fruits had ripened for your plucking
You will not find in gardens that are new.
And yet, I think, lost Love, had you been true,
Some golden fruits had ripened for your plucking
You will not find in gardens that are new.
