| |
| 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, | 5 |
| Hast felt thy soul prolong the tone; | |
| And I have heard the night-wind cry | |
| And deem’d its speech mine own. | |
| |
| A little while a little love | |
| The scattering autumn hoards for us | 10 |
| Whose bower is not yet ruinous | |
| Nor quite unleav’d our songless grove. | |
| Only across the shaken boughs | |
| We hear the flood-tides seek the sea, | |
| And deep in both our hearts they rouse | 15 |
| 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. | 20 |
| 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. | |
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