The Lost Mistress

By Robert Browning

1812-1889

ALL 's over, then: does truth sound bitter
         As one at first believes?
Hark, 'tis the sparrows' good-night twitter
         About your cottage eaves!

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 gray.

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:

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!--

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!

DayPoems Poem No. 675
<a href="http://www.daypoems.net/poems/675.html">The Lost Mistress by Robert Browning</a>

The DayPoems Poetry Collection, www.daypoems.net
Timothy Bovee, editor

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