With prayers in which your name is set;
With smiles, not tears; and sun, not rain;
With memories sweeter far than pain,
With tender backward glances thrown,
And far on-lookings, clearer yet.
The gift I would have given to you,
And which you cannot need or take,
Shall still be given; and it shall be
A secret between you and me,—
A sweet thought, every birthday new,