In Love, if Love be Love, if Love be ours,
Faith and unfaith can ne'er be equal powers:
Unfaith in aught is want of faith in all.
...It is the little rift within the lute,
That by and by will make the music mute,
And ever widening slowly silence all.
...The little rift within the lover's lute,
Or little pitted speck in garner'd fruit,
That rotting inward slowly moulders all.
...It is not worth the keeping: let it go;
But shall it? answer, darling, answer, no.
And trust me not at all or all in all.
The Miller's Daughter
by Alfred, Lord Tennyson
It is the miller's daughter,
...And she is grown so dear, so dear,
That I would be the jewel
...That trembles in her ear:
For hid in ringlets day and night,
I'd touch her neck so warm and white.
And I would be the girdle
...About her dainty dainty waist,
And her heart would beat against me,
...In sorrow and in rest:
And I should know if it beat right,
I'd clasp it round so close and tight.
And I would be the necklace,
...And all day long to fall and rise
Upon her balmy bosom,
...With her laughter or her sighs:
And I would lie so light, so light,
I scarce should be unclasp'd at night.