Author Williamina Parrish I've learned to say it carelessly, So no one else can see By any little look or sign How dear it is to me. But, oh, the thrill, as though you kissed My tingling finger-tips Each time the golden syllables Fall lightly from my lips! 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