A Match

If love were what the rose is,     And I were like the leaf,     Our lives would grow together     In sad or singing weather,     Blown fields or flowerful closes,     Green pleasure or grey grief;     If love were what the rose is,     And I were like the leaf.     If I were what the words are,     And love were like the tune,     With double sound and single     Delight our lips would mingle,     With kisses glad as birds are     That get sweet rain at noon;     If I were what the words are,     And love were like the tune.     If you were life, my darling,     And I your love were death,     Wed shine and snow together     Ere March made sweet the weather     With daffodil and starling     And hours of fruitful breath;     If you were life, my darling,     And I your love were death.     If you were thrall to sorrow,     And I were page to joy,     Wed play for lives and seasons     With loving looks and treasons     And tears of night and morrow     And laughs of maid and boy;     If you were thrall to sorrow,     And I were page to joy.     If you were Aprils lady,     And I were lord in May,     Wed throw with leaves for hours     And draw for days with flowers,     Till day like night were shady     And night were bright like day;     If you were Aprils lady,     And I were lord in May.     If you were queen of pleasure,     And I were king of pain,     Wed hunt down love together,     Pluck out his flying-feather,     And teach his feet a measure,     And find his mouth a rein;     If you were queen of pleasure,     And I were king of pain.