This said, I am thine—and so its ink has paled

Once, as a friend: this fixed a day in spring

To come and touch my hand九*九*藏*書. . . a simple thing,

Yes I wept for it—this . . . the papers light. . .

Against my tremulous hands which lhｔｔps://ｒｅａd•９9cｓw.ｃｏｍoose the string

If, what this said, I dared repe九九藏書at at last!

And let them drop down on my knee tonight.

My letters! all dead paper, mute and white!

And yet they seem alive and quivhttps://read.99csw.comering

Said, Dear, I love thee; and I sank and quailed

With lying at my heart that beat too faread.99csw.comst.

And this . . . 0 Love, thy words have ill availed

This said—he wished to have me in his sight

As if Gods future thundered on my past.