I Love Thee

I love thee—oh! I love thee, With fervor, deep and wild, Thy beauty's charm most strangely, My spirit hath beguiled.

I love thee—oh! I love thee, The Spring's first, freshest flower, Comes not across my spirit, With such a holy power.

I love thee—oh! I love thee, The fibres of my heart Are closely twined about thee, As if by magic art.

I see thee—oh! I see thee, In the sunbeam, in the bud, In all that's fair in nature, In all that's bright and good.

I hear thee—oh! I hear thee, In the melting music-words, That swell, at joyous morning, From the woodland choir of birds.

I crave thee—oh! I crave thee, Thou angel sent from God! To beautify the pathway, Which must by me be trod.

I love thee—oh! I love thee! And, dearest, I implore, That bliss may still await thee, On Heaven's far brighter shore.