I LOVE THEE.
I love thee—oh! I love thee,
With fervor, deep and wild,
Thy beauty's charm most strangely,
My spirit hath beguiled.
I love thee—oh! I love thee,
The Spring's first, freshest flower,
Comes not across my spirit,
With such a holy power.
I love thee—oh! I love thee,
The fibres of my heart
Are closely twined about thee,
As if by magic art.
I see thee—oh! I see thee,
In the sunbeam, in the bud,
In all that's fair in nature,
In all that's bright and good.
I hear thee—oh! I hear thee,
In the melting music-words,
That swell, at joyous morning,
From the woodland choir of birds.
I crave thee—oh! I crave thee,
Thou angel sent from God!
To beautify the pathway,
Which must by me be trod.
I love thee—oh! I love thee!
And, dearest, I implore,
That bliss may still await thee,
On Heaven's far brighter shore.