Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. 1919. The Oxford Book of English Verse: 1250–1900.
Robert Browning. 18121889726. The Lost Mistress
ALL ‘s over, then: does truth sound bitter | |
As one at first believes? | |
Hark, ’tis the sparrows’ good-night twitter | |
About your cottage eaves! | |
And the leaf-buds on the vine are woolly, | 5 |
I noticed that, to-day; | |
One day more bursts them open fully | |
—You know the red turns gray. | |
To-morrow we meet the same then, dearest? | |
May I take your hand in mine? | 10 |
Mere friends are we,—well, friends the merest | |
Keep much that I resign: | |
For each glance of the eye so bright and black, | |
Though I keep with heart’s endeavour,— | |
Your voice, when you wish the snowdrops back, | 15 |
Though it stay in my soul for ever!— | |
Yet I will but say what mere friends say, | |
Or only a thought stronger; | |
I will hold your hand but as long as all may, | |
Or so very little longer! | 20 |