Love-Doubt

Yearning upon the faint rose-curves that flit About her child-sweet mouth and innocent cheek, And in her eyes watching with eyes all meek The light and shadow of laughter, I would sit Mute, knowing out two souls might never knit; As if a pale proud lily-flower should seek The love of some red rose, but could not speak One word of her blithe tongue to tell of it. For oh, my Love was sunny-lipped and stirred With all swift light and sound and gloom not long Retained; I, with dreams weighed, that ever heard Sad burdens echoing through the loudest throng She, the wild song of some May-merry bird; I, but the listening maker of a song.