Love, love, what wilt thou with this heart of mine?
Naught see I fixed or sure in thee!
I do not know thee,--nor what deeds are thine:
Love, love, what wilt thou with this heart of mine?
Naught see I fixed or sure in thee!
Shall I be mute, or vows with prayers combine?
Ye who are blessed in loving, tell it me:
Love, love, what wilt thou with this heart of mine?
Naught see I permanent or sure in thee!
More verses by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
- Elliot's Oak
- Prometheus, Or, The Poet's Forethought. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The First)
- Flower-De-Luce: Giotto's Tower
- Flower-De-Luce: Hawthorne
- Walter Von Der Vogel Weid