I.

All's over, then: does truth sound bitter As one at first believes?

Hark, 'tis the sparrows' good-night twitter About your cottage eaves!

II.

And the leaf-buds on the vine are woolly, I noticed that, to-day;One day more bursts them open fully ---You know the red turns grey.

III.

To-morrow we meet the same then, dearest?

May I take your hand in mine?

Mere friends are we,---well, friends the merest Keep much that I resign:

IV.

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, Though it stay in my soul for ever!---V.

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!