MY love for you is such a wondrous thing — I dare not question how nor why't was sent. I only know it bids my soul to sing — And so I fold it close and am content. My love for you makes all the moments rare With mem'ries that are sweet as April showers; I sense your thoughts — I feel your tender care — Like breath of blossoms blown across the hours. My love for you is not the swift display Of mad infatuation — not the flame That leaps to life and dies within a day — Ah, such were never worthy of the name! My love for you — doubt not — is strong and sure — How could I give a fickle love to you? Your own great heart so steadfast, brave, and true, Compels a love that ever must be true. |