Ask Me Why I Love You

Ask me why I love you, dear,
    And I will ask the rose
Why it loves the dews of Spring
     At the Winter’s close;
Why the blossoms’ nectared sweets
     Loved by questing bee,—
I will gladly answer you,
     If they answer me.

Ask me why I love you, dear,
    And I will ask the flower
Why it loves the Summer sun,
    Or the Summer shower;
I will ask the lover’s heart
     Why it loves the moon,
Or the star-besprinkled skies
     In a night in June.

Ask me why I love you, dear,
    I will ask the vine
Why its tendrils trustingly
    Round the oak entwine;
Why you love the mignonette
    Better than the rue,—
If you will but answer me,
    I will answer you.

Ask me why I love you, dear,
    Let the lark reply,
Why his heart is full of song
   When the twilight’s nigh;
Why the lover heaves a sigh
    When her heart is true;
If you will but answer me,
    I will answer you.