A sister’s quiet love
Stirs my heart for thee,
Ask me for none other,
For it paineth me.
Schiller’s Ballads.
I can but listen to thy words in sorrow—
Words that are poured from a full, bursting heart.
Thou couldst not thus the form of passion borrow;
I know thou dost not act a studied part.
For even now thine eyes, so true and earnest,