<h3 id="The_Coming_of_Love">The Coming of Love</h3>
<p>HOW shall I know? Shall I hear Love pass<br/>
In the wind that sighs through the poplar tree?<br/>
Shall I follow his passing over the grass<br/>
By the prisoned scents which his footsteps free?</p>
<p>Shall I wake one day to a sky all blue<br/>
And meet with Spring in a crowded street?<br/>
Shall I open a door and, looking through,<br/>
Find, on a sudden, the world more sweet?</p>
<p>How shall I know?—last night I lay<br/>
Counting the hours’ dreary sum<br/>
With naught in my heart save a wild dismay<br/>
And a fear that whispered, “Love is come!”</p>
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