Page:The Vow of the Peacock.pdf/96

One word to breathe of love to thee,
    One low, one timid word,
To say thou art beloved by me,
    But rather felt than heard.

I scarcely wish thy heart were won;
    Mine own, with such excess,
Would like the flower beneath the sun
    Die with its happiness.

I pray for thee on bended knee,
    But not for mine own sake;
My heart's best prayers are all for thee—
    It prays itself to break.

Farewell! farewell! I would not leave
    A single trace behind;