If
If life were but a dream, my Love,And death the waking time;If day had not a beam, my Love,And night had not a rhyme,—A barren, barren world were thisWithout one saving gleam;I ‘d only ask that with a kissYou ‘d wake me from the dream.
If dreaming were the sum of days,And loving were the bane;If battling for a wreath of baysCould soothe a heart in pain,—I ‘d scorn the meed of battle’s might,All other aims aboveI ‘d choose the human’s higher right,To suffer and to love!