Listen, Dearest! You Must Love Me More, More Than You Did Before! Hark, What A Beating Here Of Wings! Never At Rest, Dear, In Your Breast! Is It Your Heart With Its Flutterings, Making A Music, Love, For Us Both? Or Merely A Moth, A Velvet-Winged Moth, Which Out Of The Garden'S Fragrance Swings, Weaving A Spell, That Holds The Rose And The Moon In Thrall? I Love You More Than I Can Tell; And No Recall How Long Ago Our Quarrel And All! You Say, You Know, A Perfect Pearl Grows Out Of Well, A Little Friction; Tiny Grain Of Sand Or Shell So Love Grew Out Of That Moment'S Pain, The Heart'S Disdain Since Then I Have Thought Of No One But You, And How Your Heart Would Beat On Mine, Like Light On Dew. And I Thought How Foolish To Fret And Pine! Better To Claim The Fault All Mine! To Go To You And Tell You That: And How Stale And Flat All Life Without You Was, And Vain! And When I Came, You Turned And Smiled, Like A Darling Child, And I Knew From Your Look That, In Your Heart, You Had Followed The Self-Same Train Of Thought That Made Me Yours Again. Dearest! No More! We Shall Never Part! So. Turn Your Face As You Did Before. I Smooth Your Brow And Kiss You. Now... Tell Me True Did You Miss Me, Dear, As I Missed You?