Why Do I O'Er My Paper Once More Bend? Ask Not Too Closely, Dearest One, I Pray For, To Speak Truth, I've Nothing Now To Say; Yet To Thy Hands At Length 'Twill Come, Dear Friend. Since I Can Come Not With It, What I Send My Undivided Heart Shall Now Convey, With All Its Joys, Hopes, Pleasures, Pains, To-Day: All This Hath No Beginning, Hath No End. Henceforward I May Ne'er To Thee Confide How, Far As Thought, Wish, Fancy, Will, Can Reach, My Faithful Heart With Thine Is Surely Blended. Thus Stood I Once Enraptured By Thy Side, Gazed On Thee, And Said Nought. What Need Of Speech? My Very Being In Itself Was Ended.