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Mount then on the bench !

No!

How, you will not ?

Stay a while ! Tis sweet,. . . The rare occasion, when our hearts can speak Ourselves unseen, unseeing !

Why - Unseen ?

Ay, it is sweet ! Half hidden, half revealed You see the dark folds of my shrouding cloak, And I, the glimmering whiteness of your dress : I but a shadow - you a radiance fair ! Know you what such a moment holds for me ? If ever I were eloquent. ..

You were !

Yet never till to-night my speech has sprung Straight from my heart as now it springs.

Why not ?