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.