"I love thee, oh, I love thee!"—How those words Mount upward from my heart in swelling joy! "I love thee, oh, I love thee!"—Those sweet words Gush forth unbidden in resistless joy! I love thee!—not as others love,—as those Who bend in servile homage to the creature; I love the soul—the perfume, not the rose— The glorious soul that beams through every feature! I love thee!—I have listened to thy voice Till it has entered in and filled my heart; And with a joy-born tremour I rejoice When through my frame its tones sweet-thrilling dart! I love thee!—I have gazed into thine eyes Deep as are the depths of dark-blue ocean, And seen bright, noble thoughts within arise, And issue forth in angel-like emotion! I love thee!—I have gazed into those eyes Till I have read the stainless soul within, Pure and unspotted as my native skies; Too pure for earth, too good to dwell with sin! I love thee!—I have bent, in worshipping Yet anguished reverence, before thy soul; Feeling, alas, life's tenure from me slipping, And I not reached thy heart, my spirit's goal! I love thee, angel-souled!—A haughty brow, That never bowed to other, bows to thee; A spirit proud and lonely until now, Kneeleth, as to an altar-shrine—to thee! I love thee! with a poet's adoration, Such as the common-souled can never feel,— Wilt thou not hear my earnest imploration? Wilt thou not look upon me as I kneel? |