The adopted daughter and other tales |
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37. | OUT-SPOKEN LOVE. |
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The adopted daughter | ||
292
OUT-SPOKEN LOVE.
BY MARY.
I love you—'tis the simplest way
The thing I feel to tell,
Yet if I told it all the day
You'd never guess how well;
You are my comfort and my light,
My very life you seem,
I think of you all day—all night
'Tis but of you I dream.
There's pleasure in the lightest word
That you can speak to me;
My soul is like æolian chord,
And vibrates unto thee:
I never read the love song yet
So thrilling, fond, or true,
But in my own heart I have met
Some kinder thought for you.
I bless the shadows on your face,
The light upon your hair,
I'd like for hours to sit and trace
The passing changes there:
I love to hear your voice's tone,
Although you should not say
A single word to dream upon,
When that had died away.
Oh, you are kindly as the beam
That warms where'er it plays,
And you are gentle as a dream
Of happy future days;
And you are strong to do the right,
And swift the wrong to flee;
But if you were not half so bright
You are all the world to me.
The thing I feel to tell,
Yet if I told it all the day
You'd never guess how well;
You are my comfort and my light,
My very life you seem,
I think of you all day—all night
'Tis but of you I dream.
There's pleasure in the lightest word
That you can speak to me;
My soul is like æolian chord,
And vibrates unto thee:
I never read the love song yet
So thrilling, fond, or true,
But in my own heart I have met
Some kinder thought for you.
I bless the shadows on your face,
The light upon your hair,
I'd like for hours to sit and trace
The passing changes there:
I love to hear your voice's tone,
Although you should not say
A single word to dream upon,
When that had died away.
Oh, you are kindly as the beam
That warms where'er it plays,
And you are gentle as a dream
Of happy future days;
And you are strong to do the right,
And swift the wrong to flee;
But if you were not half so bright
You are all the world to me.
The adopted daughter | ||