I Lock My Door Upon Myself, And

My Heart Is Breaking For A Little Love

I Wonder If The Sap Is Stirring Yet, If Wintry Birds Are Dreaming Of A Mate, If Frozen Snowdrops Feel As Yet The Sun And Crocus Fires Are Kindling One By One: Sing Robin, Sing: I Still Am Sore In Doubt Concerning Spring.

Lie Still, Lie Still, My Breaking Heart; My Silent Heart, Lie Still And Break: Life, And The World, And Mine Own Self, Are Changed For A Dream's Sake.

The Bourne Underneath The Growing Grass, Underneath The Living Flowers, Deeper Than The Sound Of Showers: There We Shall Not Count The Hours By The Shadows As They Pass. Youth And Health Will Be But Vain, Beauty Reckoned Of No Worth: There A Very Little Girth Can Hold Round What Once The Earth Seemed Too Narrow To Contain.

And May You Happy Live, And Long Us Bless.