Unless I yield my love to you, you swear In strangely distant countries must you dwell; Denied this heart of mine, you could not bear These dear, familiar scenes we've loved so well. To-morrows that will come, you could not face With only pain to bear you company, Among the whispering memories of this place, The little, intimate things that speak of me. Where mighty mountains rear their cruel height, The world between us, would you dwell, apart; Where curious peace, that comes with tropic night, Answers the bitter question of your heart. The lilac bush, that bends with bloom in May, The winding path, the arbor where we sat, These things should know you nevermore, you say, -- Ah, love, if I could only count on that! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AND THE GREATEST OF THESE IS WAR by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON THE SLAVE TRADE: VIEW FROM THE MIDDLE PASSAGE by CLARENCE MAJOR AUTUMN MOVEMENT by CARL SANDBURG THE PICKET-GUARD [NOVEMBER, 1861] by ETHEL LYNN BEERS SLEEPY HOLLOW by WILLIAM ELLERY CHANNING (1817-1901) |