  Why do I love thee and how do I know That thou art the dearest of all to me? Why do the moments, wherever I go, Seem brighter and better because of thee? Why, mid the work of the long, weary day, Are burdens of life more easy to bear? Why pause I so often, upon life’s way, To ask God’s blessing for thee in prayer? Why does my soul, once so tempted and sad, Awaken to thoughts both noble and pure? Why does the loving thee make my heart glad,— God seem the nearer and Heaven the more sure? Why, in my dreaming, thy voice do I hear, Thy face do I see, and feel thy caress? Why, dreaming or waking, seemeth thou near, To soothe, to comfort, to help and to bless? I pass others by, in the crowded street, Whose faces, it may be, are fair as thine, Yet thine, thine only, to me is most sweet,— Thou only canst waken this love of mine. Another’s low word and sweet, winning smile, Tho’ sought by many, when given to me I dare to confess can charm for awhile, But love meaneth more and I love but thee. I hear other voices, see other smiles, But hearing and seeing bringeth unrest; Laughter and music the evening beguiles,— Thy voice and thy smile for me are the best. Why do I love thee? Ask God why he gave To thee, and thee only, that power divine My heart to touch and my soul to save, And then I can answer why thou art mine. Why do I love thee? Ask God to reveal Why He hath made thee so unlike the rest;— True and unselfish, perchance thou mayest feel That I have good reason for loving thee best. Art thou the dearest one? Love can but show That thou art the dearest, ideal of mine; Knowing, I love thee; and loving, I know; To know and to love are the gifts divine. |
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