Yes, yes! I love thee, Guilo; thee alone.
   Why dost thou sigh, and wear that face of sorrow?
The sunshine is today's, although it shone
   On yesterday, and may shine on tomorrow.

I love but thee, my Guilo! be content,
   The greediest heart can claim but present pleasure.
The future is thy God's. The past is spent.
   Today is thine; clasp close the precious treasure.

See how I love thee, Guilo! Lips and eyes
   Could never under thy fond gaze dissemble.
I could not feign these passion-laden sighs,
   Deceiving thee, my pulses would not tremble.

"So I loved Romney." Hush, thou foolish one--
   I should forget him wholly, wouldst thou let me;
Or but remember that his day was done
   From that most supreme hour when first I met thee.

"And Paul?" Well, what of Paul? Paul had blue eyes,
   And Romney grey, and thine are darkly tender!
One finds fresh feelings under change of skies--
   A new horizon brings a newer splendor

As I love thee, I never loved before;
   Believe me, Guilo, for I speak most truly.
What though to Romney and to Paul I swore
   The selfsame words; my heart now worships newly.

We never feel the same emotion twice:
   No two ships ever ploughed the selfsame billow.
The waters change, with every fall and rise;
   So, Guilo, go contented to thy pillow.

Poems of Passion by Ella Wheeler
Chicago : Belford, Clarke & Co, 1883.

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