You'll love me yet and I can tarry
Your love's protracted growing:
June reared 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 most fragile part in a girl body is her heart. So, take a good care of it. Its nice to see. Nice to hold. But once broken, considered for ever! this is an advise from me.