A LITTLE while a little love The hour yet bears for thee and me Who have not drawn the veil to see If still our heaven be lit above. Thou merely, at the day's last sigh, Hast felt thy soul prolong the tone; And I have heard the night-wind cry And deemed its speech mine own. A little while a little love The scattering autumn hoards for us Whose bower is not yet ruinous Nor quite unleaved our songless grove. Only across the shaken boughs We hear the flood-tides seek the sea, And deep in both our hearts they rouse One wail for thee and me. A little while a little love May yet be ours who have not said The word it makes our eyes afraid To know that each is thinking of. Not yet the end: be our lips dumb In smiles a little season yet: I'll tell thee, when the end is come, How we may best forget. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FRUIT GARDEN PATH by AMY LOWELL THE SPRING OF THE YEAR by ALLAN CUNNINGHAM MODERN MANNERS by MARY (CUMBERLAND) ALCOCK THE TWO MASKS by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH LINES TO SAMUEL ROGERS IN WALES ON EVE OF BASTILLE DAY 1791 by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD SWORD AND BUCKLER; OR, SERVING-MAN'S DEFENCE by WILLIAM BASSE |