If Only Thou Art True
Why should the summer pine?
A blade of grass in a rocky cleft;
A single star to shine.
—Why should I sorrow if all be lost,
If only thou art mine?
Bright on the barren heath,
Still of that flower the summer dreams,
Not of his August wreath.
—Why should I sorrow if thou art mine,
Love, beyond change and death?
The sun shines forth in the blue,
He gladdens the groves till they laugh as in May
And dream of the touch of the dew.
—Why should I sorrow if all be false,
If only thou art true?