Page:The poems of Edmund Clarence Stedman, 1908.djvu/469

THE CONSTANT HEART 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 only 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

Where brightest starrs are closely sett

Farre out beyonde the voyd;

If Margaret be risen yet

Her looke will hither turne,

I knowe that she will heare it,

And all my trewe heart learne.

But if no resurrection

Unseale her dwellinge low,

If one so fayre must bide her there

Until the trumpe shall blowe,

Nathlesse shall Love outvie Despaire,

(Whilst constant heart is myne) 439