DOUBT.
The bee knows honey,
And the blossoms light,
Day the dawning,
Stars the night;
The slow, glad river
Knows its sea;
Is it true, Love,
I know not thee?
And the blossoms light,
Day the dawning,
Stars the night;
The slow, glad river
Knows its sea;
Is it true, Love,
I know not thee?
When the Summer
Brings snow-drifts piled,
When the planets
Go wandering wild,
When the old hill-tops
Valleys be,—
Tell me true, Love,
Shall I know thee?
Brings snow-drifts piled,
When the planets
Go wandering wild,
When the old hill-tops
Valleys be,—
Tell me true, Love,
Shall I know thee?
Where'er I wander,
By sea or shore,
By sea or shore,
