Author Mary Elizabeth Coleridge Not as I am thou art — and yet thou art. To touch thy hand, I thought was touching thee. I looked into thine eyes, the soul to see. I felt thee in the beating of thy heart. Hands, eyes, and heart thou hast not — yet thou art. Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments