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Paul Laurence Dunbar - A Madrigal
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Dream days of fond delight and hours
    As rosy-hued as dawn, are mine.
    Love`s drowsy wine,
  Brewed from the heart of Passion flowers,
    Flows softly o`er my lips
    And save thee, all the world is in eclipse.

  There were no light if thou wert not;
    The sun would be too sad to shine,
    And all the line
  Of hours from dawn would be a blot;
    And Night would haunt the skies,
    An unlaid ghost with staring dark-ringed eyes.

  Oh, love, if thou wert not my love,
    And I perchance not thine--what then?
    Could gift of men
  Or favor of the God above,
    Plant aught in this bare heart
    Or teach this tongue the singer`s soulful art?

  Ah, no! `Tis love, and love alone
    That spurs my soul so surely on;
    Turns night to dawn,
  And thorns to roses fairest blown;
    And winter drear to spring--
    Oh, were it not for love I could not sing!
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