Thoughts

I sit me down to write a verse,

     A verse to you, sweetheart,

In which the story of our love

     Shall play the leading part.

The verse I fear will stretch away

     Into a story long;

I cannot weave my love for you

     Into a simple song.

Thoughts crowd upon me thick and fast,

     And every thought of you;

My pen lies idly on the desk,

     And not a line in view.

And so the moments slip away,

     The whole long evening through;

I cannot write, sweetheart, my thoughts

     Have grown so full of you.

July 20, 1901

Pub. in Camb.

Press, Aug. 1901