LOVING ONE ONCE MORE.
WHY do I o'er my paper once more
Ask not too closely, dearest one,
For, to speak truth, I've nothing
now to say;
Yet to thy hands at length 'twill come, dear friend.
Since I can come not with it, what
My undivided heart shall now convey,
With all its joys, hopes, pleasures,
All this hath no beginning, hath no end.
Henceforward I may ne'er to thee
How, far as thought, wish, fancy,
will, can reach,
My faithful heart with
thine is surely blended.
Thus stood I once enraptured by
Gazed on thee, and said nought.
What need of speech?
My very being in itself