< Littell's Living Age < Volume 173 < Issue 2242
For works with similar titles, see Song.

If words were not so weak
  To tell our best thoughts, dear,
Then I might speak,
  And you might hear.

If earth were not so bleak,
  Our roses might not die, —
And I might seek
  And find you nigh.

You found, what should I seek?
  You mine, what should I need
To make this bleak
  Earth Heaven indeed?

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