(In A Hospital)

Why do I love thee?-- Not because thy wak'ning lips Were wooed to bloom by minstrel wind Of Araby or Ind.

Not because thy fragrance slips Into my soul--as if thou must Be sprung of a mother's dust.

Not because she gave her breast To thee for one long night--she whose Pure heart I ne'er shall lose.

But when I lay in sick unrest Afar from those who are my own, Thou camest from hands unknown: Therefore I love thee!