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EAR, I tried to write you such a letter
Written Love is poor; one word were
I can tell you all: fears, doubts unheeding,
Yet I wrote it through, then lingered, thinking
Will my letter fall,” I wondered sadly,
“ It may find her too absorbed to read it,
“ 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
And I thought : “ Love's soul is not in fetters,
“ If, perhaps now, while my tears are falling,
“ 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
“ Or will marvel why, without her seeking,
So I dreamed, and watched the stars’ far splendour
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 :-
When Life is so hard to bear?
“ No one comforts me like my Effie,
Just I think that she does not try,-
Why grown people should ever cry;
“ 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;
As she strokes my face with her hand.