Poem by Florence Earle Coates

Let Me Believe

Let me believe you, love, or let me die!
     If on your faith I may not rest secure,—
     Beyond all chance of peradventure sure,—
     Trusting your half-avowals sweet and shy,
As trusts the lark the pallid, dawn-lit sky,—
     Then would I rather in some grave obscure
     Repose forlorn, than, living on, endure
     A question each dear transport to belie!
It is a pain to thirst and do without,
     A pain to suffer what we deem unjust,
     To win a joy—and lay it in the dust;
But there's a fiercer pain,—the pain of doubt:
     From other griefs Death sets the spirit free;
     Doubt steals the light from immortality! 

1. By the Conemaugh
2. Be Thou My Guide
3. Cora
4. Wouldst Thou Learn?
5. First and Last

Thomas Hardy Let Me Believe ("Let me believe it, dearest")

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