Classic Poem

A look that passeth from thine eyes to mine,
A kiss which thine upon my lips have pressed —
May one whom knowledge of such joys hath blessed,
May she, forsooth, for other joys repine?

Estranged from friends, my life apart from thine,
My thoughts still circle in unending quest,
And evermore upon that hour they rest,
That solitary hour: — then fill my eyne.

The tear-drop dries unheeded on my cheek;
He loves, think I; though silent, loves thee still,
And why should distance keep thy love unspoken?
Oh, let this whisper of affection speak;
My only joy on earth is thy dear will,
Thy tender love for me; give me a token.