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The Yale Literary Magazine (Vol. LXXXVIII, No. 2, November 1922)

Love Song

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Come, sweet maid, and walk with me In the twilight hush: By the wayside merrily Pipes an autumn thrush, While above the evening star Hallows all the land. I shall lead you safe and far ... Give me but your hand. Come, my love, and talk with me Here a little space: Often has this fallen tree Been a trysting-place Where young lovers two by two Stole to speak unheard. I shall pledge my love to you ... Give me but a word. Come, my dearest, live with me Through the passing years: Then in life together see Beauty through the tears; And death wisely ne’er withholds Love like ours apart. I shall know what heaven holds ... Give me but your heart. WALTER E. HOUGHTON, JR.

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