QUESTION AND ANSWER.

Love you seek for, presupposes Summer heat and sunny glow. Tell me, do you find moss-roses Budding, blooming in the snow? Snow might kill the rose-tree's root— Shake it quickly from your foot, Lest it harm you as you go.

From the ivy where it dapples A grey ruin, stone by stone, Do you look for grapes or apples, Or for sad green leaves alone? Pluck the leaves off, two or three— Keep them for morality When you shall be safe and gone.