I have no words to tell thee how I love thee,
Words are such feeble things,
But I have thoughts, sweet tender thoughts about thee,
And thoughts have wings.

Therefore I take my thoughts and set them flying
On pinions swift and light,
That they may bear the tumult of my sighing
Far out of sight.

I send them far, to seek in their own fashion,
To seek and find thy breast;
Then whisper all my love, and all my passion,
And sink to rest.