Thou Shalt Love Thy Neighbour as Thyself

To love our neighbour, we are told,
" Even as thyself." That Creed I hold;

But love her more, a thousand-fold!

My lovely Neighbour; oft we meet
In lonely lane, or crowded street;
I know the music of her feet.

She little thinks how, on a day,
She must have missed her usual way,
And walked into my heart for aye.

Or how the rustle of her dress
Thrills through me like a soft c
With trembles of deliciousness.

Wee woman, with her smiling mien,
And soul celestially serene,
She passes me, unconscious Queen!

Her face most innocently good,
Where shyly peeps the sweet red blood:

Her form a nest of Womanhood!

Like Baleigh — for her dainty tread,
When ways are miry — I could spread
My cloak, but, there's my heart instead.

Ah, Neighbour, you will never know
Why 'tis my step is quickened so;
Nor what tho prayer I murmur low!

I see you 'mid your flowers at morn,
Fresh as the rosebud newly born;
I marvel, can you have a thorn?

If so, 'twere sweet to lean one's breast
Against it, and, the more it pressed,
Sing like the Bird that sorrow hath blessed.

I hear you sing! And through me Spring
Doth musically ripple and ring;
Little you think I'm listening!

You know not, clear, how dear you be J
All dearer for the secrecy:
Nothing, and yet a world to me.

So near, too! you could hear me sigh,
Or see my case with half an eye;

But must not. There are reasons why.