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OUR SECRET.A Madrigal.
I never said—"I love thee!"
But when I bend in prayer,
One treasured name is on my lips,
Its whisper stirs the air.

I never said—"I love thee!"
My voice to thee is dumb;
But if of thee another speak,
What tender thoughts will come,

I never said—"I love thee!"
My hand thine may not be,
But ever will the faithful shell
Moan for the far-off sea.

I never said—"I love thee!"
But there's a beauteous clime,
Where solved are all the mysteries
O'er which we weep in time;