C.D. Warner, et al., comp.
The Library of the World’s Best Literature. An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.
Author Unknown
Love Me Little, Love Me Long
L
Is the burden of my song:
Love that is too hot and strong
Burneth soon to waste.
Still I would not have thee cold—
Not too backward, nor too bold:
Love that lasteth till ’tis old
Fadeth not in haste.
Love me little, love me long!
Is the burden of my song.
’Twill not prove as true a touch;
Love me little more than such—
For I fear the end.
I’m with little well content,
And a little from thee sent
Is enough, with true intent
To be steadfast, friend.
I to thee my love will give,
Never dreaming to deceive
While that life endures;
Nay, and after death, in sooth,
I to thee will keep my truth,
As now when in my May of youth:
This my love assures.
And it will through life persever:
Give me that with true endeavor,—
I will it restore.
A suit of durance let it be,
For all weathers,—that for me,—
For the land or for the sea;
Lasting evermore.
Autumn’s tempests on it beat;
It can never know defeat,
Never can rebel;
Such the love that I would gain,
Such the love, I tell thee plain,
Thou must give, or woo in vain:
So to thee—farewell!