Classic Poem

Silent I love thee. When thou deignst to speak
I love thee more. When happily thou smilest,
Beloved, then upon the soul's high peak
I stand, deep in the spell which thou beguilest.
Bourne of the shadows, thy soft wind-blown hair
Prisons my heart within the joy thou bringest.
Dusk is a-quiver, all vibrant the air,
When with thy darkling eyes gaily thou singest.
Silent the song and yet there falls the strain,
Far o'er the thrall wherein my heart thou holdest;
Captive I be, but neither bar nor chain,
Nor power save love about my heart thou moldest,
Silence or word or smile or dark eyes gleaming—
Morsels of heavenly fare, joys of my dreaming.