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Title: A Song [I Shouldn't Like To Say, I'm Sure]
Author: George Augustus Baker [
More Titles by Baker]
I shouldn't like to say, I'm sure,
I shouldn't like to say,
Why I think of you more, and more, and more
As day flits after day.
Nor why I see in the Summer skies
Only the beauty of your sweet eyes,
The power by which you sway
A kingdom of hearts, that little you prize--
I shouldn't like to say.
I shouldn't like to say, I'm sure,
I shouldn't like to say
Why I hear your voice, so fresh and pure,
In the dash of the laughing spray.
Nor why the wavelets that all the while,
In many a diamond-glittering file,
With truant sunbeams play,
Should make me remember your rippling smile--
I shouldn't like to say.
I shouldn't like to say, I'm sure,
I shouldn't like to say,
Why all the birds should chirp of you,
Who live so far away.
Robin and oriole sing to me
From the leafy depths of our apple-tree,
With trunk so gnarled and gray--
But why your name should their burden be
I shouldn't like to say.
[The end]
George Augustus Baker's poem: Song [I Shouldn't Like To Say, I'm Sure]
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