You only think you are not loved.
I also sighed as you now sigh,
Because I thought I was not loved.
But I was loved—how I was loved!
She lay awake at night and dreamed
Of me, who thought I was not loved.
Some loves like blooms that blush unseen,
Remain unknown and unconfessed,
And we oftimes are best beloved
When loved with love in silence shrined.