  N Not because you are gentle of speech, O brave knight of mine! Nor because in the chivalrous list With the brightest you shine; Nor because when you pass on the street All the world turn to praise The wonderful charm of your look And grace of your ways; Nor because in your presence I know I have but to command, And the coveted treasures at once Will fall from your hand; Nor because by the glance of your eyes That so tenderly drew My whole heart unto yours, I may know I am perfect to you; But because in your presence, dear, I Grow gentle of speech; The haughty young maiden who once Was so wilful to teach; And because when I pass on the street All the world turn to praise A certain new charm in my look And grace in my ways; And because in your presence I lose The proud wish to command; Contented, nay eager, dear love, To be led by your hand; And because your eyes full of reproach At some things that I do, Still show the belief I shall grow To be worthy of you;— Do I love you? ’twere idle indeed To refuse now to yield; Quite useless for lips to deny What the eyes have revealed; Yet not, (let me say it, for fear That too vain you should be—) Not so much for what you are yourself, |
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