III
As once through forest shade I went,
I heard a flower call, and bent--
Then strove to go. Should love not spare?
"Nay, Dearest, this is love's sweet share
Of selfishness. For which is best,
To die alone or on thy breast?
If thou hast heard my call,
Take fearlessly, thou art my guest--
To give is all"
Hush! O Love, thou casuist!
IV
Ask me not why,--I only _know_,
It were thy loss if I could show
Thee cause as for a lesser thing.
Remember how we searched the spring,
But found no source,--so clear the sky
Within its earth bound depths did lie,
Give to thy joy its wings,
And to thy heart its song, nor try
With questionings
The throbbing throat that sings.
V
For in thy clear and steadfast eyes
Thine own self wonder deepest lies,
Nor any words that lips can teach
Are sweeter than their wonder speech.
And when thou givest them to me,
Through dawns of tenderness I see,--
As in the water-sky,
The sun of certainly appear.
So, _ask_ me why,
For then thou knowest, Dear.
VI
To give is more than to receive, men say.
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