You are not like the others -- that is all. I do not think you wonderful nor wise, Make you a hero in my reveries, Nor bend my fancy to your beck and call; Yet ... when you come, there seems a veil let fall, And little matters brighten and surprise -- I am afraid of something in your eyes, And I am glad that you are strong and tall. I have not given this new thing a name -- Not even to myself. You cannot see, And I should hate you if I thought you knew -- Only ... I am grown older since you came, Stronger, because your strength belongs to me, And more myself, being a part of you. |