Spring

IN Central Park the lovers sit,
     On every hilly path they stroll,
  Each thinks his love is infinite,
     And crowns his soul.

But we are cynical and wise,
     We walk a careful foot apart,
  You make a little joke that tries
     To hide your heart.

Give over, we have laughed enough;
     Oh dearest and most foolish friend,
  Why do you wage a war with love
     To lose your battle in the end?