You'll love Me yet

Robert Browning

1812 to 1889

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Track 1

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Your look?—that pays a thousand pains.
    A grave's one violet:
And yield—what you'll not pluck indeed,
    Not love, but, may be, like.
You'll love me yet!—and I can tarry
I plant a heartful now: some seed
    Your love's protracted growing:
    What 's death? You'll love me yet!
You'll look at least on love's remains,
    At least is sure to strike,
    From seeds of April's sowing.
June rear'd that bunch of flowers you carry,