Page:Poems, now first collected, Stedman, 1897.djvu/34

 THE CONSTANT HEART

songe is out of season

When birdes and lovers mate,

When soule to soule must paye swete toll

And fate be joyned with fate;

Sadde songe and wofull thought controle

This constant heart of myne,

And make newe love a treason

Unto my Valentine.

How shall my wan lippes utter

Their summons to the dedde,—

Where nowe repeate the promise swete,

So farre my love hath fledd?

My onely love! What musicke fleet

Shall crosse the walle that barres?

To earthe the burthen mutter,

Or singe it to the starrs?

Perchance she dwelles a spirite

In beautye undestroyed 14