Dream days of fond delight and hours <br />As rosy-hued as dawn, are mine. <br />Love's drowsy wine, <br />Brewed from the heart of Passion flowers, <br />Flows softly o'er my lips <br />And save thee, all the world is in eclipse. <br /> <br />There were no light if thou wert not; <br />The sun would be too sad to shine, <br />And all the line <br />Of hours from dawn would be a blot; <br />And Night would haunt the skies, <br />An unlaid ghost with staring dark-ringed eyes. <br /> <br />Oh, love, if thou wert not my love, <br />And I perchance not thine--what then? <br />Could gift of men <br />Or favor of the God above, <br />Plant aught in this bare heart <br />Or teach this tongue the singer's soulful art? <br /> <br />Ah, no! 'Tis love, and love alone <br />That spurs my soul so surely on; <br />Turns night to dawn, <br />And thorns to roses fairest blown; <br />And winter drear to spring-- <br />Oh, were it not for love I could not sing!<br /><br />Paul Laurence Dunbar<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-madrigal-3/
