Page:The Vow of the Peacock.pdf/96

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One word to breathe of love to thee, One low, one timid word, To say thou art beloved by me, But rather felt than heard.

I scarcely wish thy heart were won; Mine own, with such excess, Would like the flower beneath the sun Die with its happiness.

I pray for thee on bended knee, But not for mine own sake; My heart's best prayers are all for thee— It prays itself to break.

Farewell! farewell! I would not leave A single trace behind;