Love's Secret

Never seek to tell thy love
     Love that never told can be;
For the gentle wind doth move
     Silently, invisibly.
I told my love, I told my love,
     I told her all my heart,
Trembling, cold, in ghastly fears
     Ah! She did depart!
Soon after she was gone from me,
     A traveler came by,
Silently, invisibly:
     He took her with a sigh.

William Blake (1757 – 1827)