Classic Poem

Ach, wie schon bist du, wenn traulich

Ah, how sweet you are, confiding
All your thoughts in me, your lover,
When, with noble words and phrases,
Your impulsive mind runs over.

When you tell me that your thoughts are
Large and of a lofty fashion;
How your heart's pride, not too stubborn,
Is at war with your compassion.

How you'd never give yourself for
Millions — no, you could not bear it!
Ere you sold yourself for money
You would rather die, you swear it! . . .

And I look at you and listen,
And I listen till you've finished;
Like a thoughtful, silent statue
Whose belief is undiminished.