I think of thee!-my thoughts do twine and bud About thee, as wild vines, about a tree... Yet, O my palm-tree, be it understood I will not have my thoughts instead of thee Who art dearer, better!
The heart doth recognise thee, Alone, alone! The heart doth smell thee sweet, Doth view thee fair, doth judge thee most complete,—- Though seeing now those changes that disguise thee.
Betwixt me and the dreadful outer brink Of obvious death, where I, who thought to sink, Was caught up into love, and taught the whole Of life in a new rhythm.
The great chasm between the thing I say, & the thing I would say, wd be quite dispiriting to me, in spite even of such kindnesses as yours, if the desire did not master the despondency.