Say over again, and yet once over again, br That thou dost love me. Though the word repeated br Should seem ' a cuckoo-song,' as thou dost treat it, br Remember, never to the hill or plain, br Valley and wood, without her cuckoo-strain br Comes the fresh Spring in all her green completed. br Beloved, I, amid the darkness greeted br By a doubtful spirit-voice, in that doubt's pain br Cry, ' Speak once more--thou lovest ! ' Who can fear br Too many stars, though each in heaven shall roll, br Too many flowers, though each shall crown the year ? br Say thou dost love me, love me, love me--toll br The silver iterance !--only minding, Dear, br To love me also in silence with thy soul.