We stood by the river that swept
In its glory and grandeur away;
But never a pulse of me leapt,
And you wondered at me that day.
We stood by the lake as it lay
With its dimpled face turned to the light;
Was it strange I had nothing to say
To so fair and enchanting a sight?
I look on your tresses of gold--
You are fair and thing to be loved--
Do you think I am heartless and cold
That I look and am wholly unmoved?
One answer, dear friend, I will make
To the questions your eyes ask of me:
"Talk not of the river or lake
To those who have looked on the sea."
Poetical works of Ella Wheeler Wilcox. by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Edinburgh : W. P. Nimmo, Hay, & Mitchell, 1917.
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