by Robert Browning (1812 - 1889)

You'll love me yet
Language: English 
You'll love me yet! — and I can tarry
  Your love's protracted growing: 
June rear'd that bunch of flowers you carry,
  From seeds of April's sowing.

I plant a heartful now: some seed
  At least is sure to strike,
And yield — what you'll not pluck indeed,
  Not love, but, may be, like.

You'll look at least on love's remains,
  A grave 's one violet:
Your look?—that pays a thousand pains.
  What 's death? You'll love me yet!

Confirmed with Quiller-Couch, Arthur Thomas, Sir. The Oxford Book of English Verse. Oxford: Clarendon, 1919, [c1901]; Bartleby.com, 1999. www.bartleby.com/101/719.html.


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This text was added to the website: 2015-10-07
Line count: 12
Word count: 78