‘Twas joy to hear ye speak your heart this morn’!
How much I miss when I speak much—not list’.
‘Tis sweet, my dear, for words o’r break’ adorn.
‘Tis best this way begin in speech—n’er miss!
I love to hear you speak your mind, my dear—
Most clearly when it soul reflect heartfelt.
‘Tis words that heart of mind rejoice to hear.
‘Tis words that heart of mind indeed wilt melt!
Do help me, Love, to list’ the more always’.
We two as one become e’er more and more.
I wish to hear ye speak–not all me say.
‘Tis joy indeed to see your heart to core!
If time can teach, it would say this to us:
List’ more, all slow’, list’ more, with love—no rush!