Classic Poem

To say “I love you,”—oh, that would be vain
Unless you swore it also! Nay, then still
I'd want the words resaid, resworn, until
All other words were driven from my brain
And these alone, made consecrate, remain.
But oh, my faith's so pitiably ill
With wasting doubts, I know not now what will
Make me believe in spoken words again.

Yet swear this once, and I shall then forbear
To ask new confirmation of your vow.
But what of the many that love and call you fair,
The alien lips that hunger for your brow?
Say then “I love you.” ever and anew,
And do not cease, though I should ask you to!