719. You'll love Me yet

Robert Browning. 1812-1889

YOU'LL love me yet!--and I can tarry
  Your love's protracted growing:
June rear'd that bunch of flowers you carry,
  From seeds of April's sowing.

I plant a heartful now: some seed
  At least is sure to strike,
And yield--what you'll not pluck indeed,
  Not love, but, may be, like.

You'll look at least on love's remains,
  A grave 's one violet:
Your look?--that pays a thousand pains.
  What 's death? You'll love me yet!

The Oxford Book of English Verse, HTML edition