Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900.

By Rose TerryCooke

487 Lise

IF I were a cloud in heaven,

I would hang over thee;

If I were a star of even,

I ’d rise and set for thee;

For love, life, light, were given

Thy ministers to be.

If I were a wind’s low laughter,

I ’d kiss thy hair;

Or a sunbeam coming after,

Lie on thy forehead fair;

For the world and its wide hereafter

Have nought with thee to compare.

If I were a fountain leaping,

Thy name should be

The burden of my sweet weeping;

If I were a bee,

My honeyed treasures keeping,

’T were all for thee!

There ’s never a tided ocean

Without a shore;

Nor a leaf whose downward motion

No dews deplore;

And I dream that my devotion

May move thee to sigh once more.