Songs for a Violin
III
It seems sometimes that I have been
Upon an island far at sea,
Shipwrecked, alone; and I have seen
White sails beyond the call of me
Have seen them pass—to what fair skies
Beyond the hunger of my eyes?
IV
The dead may know! How can we say?
So, when the tomb is over me,
You who in life could never give
The things that with the dead may live,
Come all alone, and silently
Give unto me at close of day
A red rose For your lips I pressed
So oft in dreams, and bending low,
Give me a lily for your breast:
The dead may know!
[69]
