If I Were Her Lover

Madison Julius Cawein

I
                                     
If I were her lover,                 
I'd wade through the clover          
Over the fields before               
The gate that leads to her door;     
Over the meadows,                    
To wait, 'mid the shadows,           
The shadows that circle her door,    
For the heart of my heart and more.  
And there in the clover              
   Close by her,                     
Over and over                        
   I'd sigh her:                     
"Your eyes are as brown              
As the Night's, looking down         
On waters that sleep                 
With the moon in their deep" . . .   
If I were her lover to sigh her.     
                                     
II
                                     
If I were her lover,                 
I'd wade through the clover          
Over the fields before               
The lane that leads to her door;     
I'd wait, 'mid the thickets,         
Or there by the pickets,             
White pickets that fence in her door,
For the life of my life and more.    
I'd lean in the clover—              
   The crisper                       
For the dews that are over—          
   And whisper:                      
"Your lips are as rare               
As the dewberries there,             
As ripe and as red,                  
On the honey-dew fed" . . .          
If I were her lover to whisper.      
                                     
III
                                     
If I were her lover,                 
I'd wade through the clover          
Over the field before                
The pathway that leads to her door;  
And watch, in the twinkle            
Of stars that sprinkle               
The paradise over her door,          
For the soul of my soul and more.    
And there in the clover              
   I'd reach her;                    
And over and over                    
   I'd teach her—                    
A love without sighs,                
Of laughterful eyes,                 
That reckoned each second            
The pause of a kiss,                 
A kiss and . . . that is             
If I were her lover to teach her.