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Sara Teasdale - Roundel
Work rating: Medium

If he could know my songs are all for him, 
At silver dawn or in the evening glow, 
Would he not smile and think it but a whim, 
If he could know?

Or would his heart rejoice and overflow, 
As happy brooks that break their icy rim 
When April`s horns along the hillsides blow?

I may not speak till Eros` torch is dim, 
The god is bitter and will have it so; 
And yet to-night our fate would seem less grim 
If he could know.
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