Poems (Edwards)/The Mute Lover
THE MUTE LOVER.
They tell me that he loves me, They say he loves me well,But why he doesn't tell me, I'm sure I cannot tell;They say his heart is with me Where'er on earth I go,But this is nothing to me, Since he don't tell me so.
I very often meet him, But then he looks so shy,That when he's asked a question, He scarcely will reply;They say he holds me dearer Than all on earth below,He's a strange uncommon creature, Why don't he tell me so?
I meet him at the party, Our hands, they often touchIn the free and frequent greetings That we admire so much;They say his love is constant, Affectionate and pure,I never will believe it, Unless he tells me so.
But he will not, always, be So backward and so shy,I know it by the brightness That sparkles in his eye;He'll tell me very shortly, Of that I'm almost sure,Although his tongue is silent, His eyes have told me so.