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EAR, I tried to write you such a letter
As would tell you all my heart to-day.

Written Love is poor; one word were
Easier, too, a thousand times, to say.

I can tell you all: fears, doubts unheeding,
While I can be near you, hold your hand,
Looking right into your eyes, and reading
Reassurance that you understand.

Yet I wrote it through, then lingered, thinking
Of its reaching you,—what hour, what day;
Till I felt my heart and courage sinking
With a strange, new, wondering dismay.

Will my letter fall,” I wondered sadly,
“ On her mood like some discordant tone,
Or be welcomed tenderly and gladly?
Will she be with others, or alone ?

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“ It may find her too absorbed to read it,
Save with hurried glance and careless air:
Sad and weary, she may scarcely heed it;
Gay and happy, she may hardly care.

“ Shall I–dare I-risk the chances ?” slowly Something,—was it shyness, love, or pride ?Chilled my heart, and checked my courage wholly; So I laid it wistfully aside.

Then I leant against the casement, turning
Tearful eyes towards the far-off west,
Where the golden evening light was burning,
Till my heart throbbed back again to rest.

And I thought : “ Love's soul is not in fetters,
Neither space nor time keep souls apart ;
Since I cannot—dare not-send my letters,
Through the silence I will send my heart.

“ If, perhaps now, while my tears are falling,
She is dreaming quietly alone,
She will hear my Love's far echo calling,
Feel my spirit drawing near her own.

“ She will hear, while twilight shades enfold her, All the gathered Love she knows so wellDeepest Love my words have ever told her, Deeper still—all I could never tell.

“ Wondering at the strange mysterious power That has touched her heart, then she will say :• Some one whom I love this very hour, Thinks of me, and loves me, far away.'

If, as well may be, to-night has found her
Full of other thoughts, with others by,
Through the words and claims that gather round her
She will hear just one, half-smothered sigh;

“ Or will marvel why, without her seeking,
Suddenly the thought of me recurs;
Or, while listening to another speaking,
Fancy that my hand is holding hers.”

So I dreamed, and watched the stars’ far splendour
Glimmering on the azure darkness, start,-
While the star of trust rose bright and tender,
Through the twilight shadows of my heart.


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ILL she come to me, little Effie, WAV Will she come in my arms to rest, y And nestle her head on my shoulder, While the sun goes down in the west ?


I and Effie will sit together,

All alone, in this great arm-chair :-
Is it silly to mind it, darling,

When Life is so hard to bear?


“ No one comforts me like my Effie,

Just I think that she does not try,-
Only looks with a wistful wonder

Why grown people should ever cry;

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“ While her little soft arms close tighter

Round my neck in their clinging hold :Well, I must not cry on your hair, dear,

For my tears might tarnish the gold.

“ I am tired of trying to read, dear;

It is worse to talk and seem gay: There are some kinds of sorrow, Effie,

It is useless to thrust away.


“ Ah, advice may be wise, my darling,

But one always knows it before ; And the reasoning down one's sorrow

Seems to make one suffer the more.


“ But my Effie won't reason, will she?

Or endeavour to understand;
Only holds up her mouth to kiss me,

As she strokes my face with her hand.

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