If He Could Know My Songs Are All For Him, At Silver Dawn Or In The Evening Glow, Would He Not Smile And Think It But A Whim, If He Could Know? Or Would His Heart Rejoice And Overflow, As Happy Brooks That Break Their Icy Rim When April'S Horns Along The Hillsides Blow? I May Not Speak Till Eros' Torch Is Dim, The God Is Bitter And Will Have It So; And Yet To-Night Our Fate Would Seem Less Grim If He Could Know.