You wonder why my feelings
 For you, my love, are sung,
 And never plainly phrased by
        The unaffected tongue.
        It is because my passions
 Are restless, rash, and strong---
       To native sense immodest
        Unless expressed in song.
 I have made speech and song,
       I have tried silence, too,
 But all interpret ill the thoughts
    My heart would speak to you.
 A motion of the hand, perhaps
   Half-wanton, half-withholding
 And such a smile, and such a glance,
         Would best be love's unfolding-
     Meaning that while my sentiments
          Have need of more than word,
    I dare not by a brazen move 
          Displace you, Lord.
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