Читать книгу The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 01, No. 05, March, 1858 - Various - Страница 15

  I am in love, meantime, you think; no doubt, you would think so.

  I am in love, you say; with those letters, of course, you would say so.

  I am in love, you declare. I think not so; yet I grant you

  It is a pleasure, indeed, to converse with this girl. Oh, rare gift,

  Rare felicity, this! she can talk in a rational way, can

  Speak upon subjects that really are matters of mind and of thinking,

  Yet in perfection retain her simplicity; never, one moment,

  Never, however you urge it, however you tempt her, consents to

  Step from ideas and fancies and loving sensations to those vain

  Conscious understandings that vex the minds of man-kind.

  No, though she talk, it is music; her fingers desert not the keys; 'tis

  Song, though you hear in her song the articulate vocables sounded,

  Syllabled singly and sweetly the words of melodious meaning.