Poems (Coates 1916)/Volume II/You
IF you no more should love me?—you?
It takes my breath, a thought so strange
As that aught earthly could your spirit woo
Remote from doubt, I dwell secure
In faith all minor faiths above,
So do I trust, so live, in your
I laugh for joy to think how much
A question would your nature wrong,
Whom Heaven created, with a noble touch,
Nay; doubt, for me, new born were over.
You will remain unchanged and true—
Not, not that I am I, my lover,
But just that you are you!