'LOVE me little, love me long,'
Is the burden of my song,
And if nothing more may be
Little shall suffice for me.

But if you could crown with flowers
All my radiant, festal hours,
And console for hours of sorrow
Love me more with each to-morrow.

And if you would turn my days
To one splendid hymn of praise,
And set hopes like stars above me
Love me much, and always love me!

More verses by Edith Nesbit

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