ABSTRACT
George Gillett. From The Artist, 1 April 1890. Guessed you but how I loved you, watched your smile Hungered to see the love-light in your eyes – That ne’er can wake for me – Would wild surprise Or sheer disgust at passion you deem vile Be your response? For you are free from guile While I, enraptured foolishly or wise Long but for you, till even yearning dies Save to be near, you loving me the while. In all the world this thing can never come And tho’ I die, no word your soul shall shame. Mine by the punishment as mine the blame And though in hopeless fear my heart is numb At its renunciation, yet still dumb You shall not hear me even breathe your name.
