Littell's Living Age/Volume 173/Issue 2242/Song

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For works with similar titles, see Song.

Originally published in Spectator.

If words were not so weak
     To tell our best thoughts, dear,
Then I might speak,
     And you might hear.

If earth were not so bleak,
     Our roses might not die, —
And I might seek
     And find you nigh.

You found, what should I seek?
     You mine, what should I need
To make this bleak
     Earth Heaven indeed?