LOVE’S REASON
What makes me love you?—Well,
In truth, I cannot tell!
I love, but know not why—
I only know I do,
And shall while I am I
And you are you.
It is your voice, maybe,
That draws the heart from me
And makes it yours alone:
Your voice it is—yet, nay,
’Tis not so much your tone
As what you say.
Perhaps it is your rare
And winsome, happy air,
Your eyes of sunny blue,
Your silvery laughter glad—
And yet, I love you too
When you are sad.
Though sweet your voice, and sweet
Your words be, when we meet,
And sweet the changeful light
Your heaven-deep eyes disclose—
I do not love you quite
For these or those.
I love you—yet I try
In vain to tell you why!
I love you by no laws
Men know or ever knew,
But just, I think, because
You’re simply—you!