Mathilde Blind

Sometimes I Wonder

Sometimes I wonder if you guess
The deep impassioned tenderness
   Which overflows my heart;
The love I never dare confess;
Yet hard, yea, harder to repress
   Than tears too fain to start.

Sometimes I ponder, O my sweet,
The things I'll tell you when we meet;
   But straightway at your sight
My heart's blood oozes to my feet
Like thawing waters in the heat,
   Confused with too much light.

I hardly know, when you are near,
If it is love, or joy, or fear
   Which fills my languid frame;
Enveloped in your atmosphere,
My dark self seems to disappear,
   A moth entombed in flame.