Page:The Hundred Best Poems (lyrical) in the English language - second series.djvu/48

  Vexed him? was it touch of hand, Turn of head? Strange! that very way Love begun: I as little understand Love's decay.

When I sewed or drew, I recall How he looked as if I sung, —Sweetly too. If I spoke a word, First of all Up his cheek the colour sprung, Then he heard.

Sitting by my side, At my feet, So he breathed but air I breathed, Satisfied! I, too, at love's brim Touched the sweet: I would die if death bequeathed Sweet to him.

"Speak, I love thee best!" He exclaimed: "Let thy love my own foretell!" I confessed:  26