What were you like, Beloved, as a very small child? Should I have loved

you from the beginning had we toddled to the rencounter; and would my love

have passed safely through the "gallous young hound" period; and could I

love you more now in any case, had I all your days treasured up in my

heart, instead of less than a year of them?

How strangely much have seven miles kept our fates apart! It seems

uncharacteristic for this small world,--where meetings come about so far

above the dreams of average--to have played us such a prank.

This must do for this once, Beloved; for behold me busy to-day: with

what, I shall not tell you. I would like to put you to a test, as

ladies did their knights of old, and hardly ever do now--fearing, I

suppose, lest the species should altogether fail them at the pinch. I

would like to see if you could come here and sit with me from beginning

to end, with your eyes shut: never once opening them. I am not saying

whether I think curiosity, or affection, would make the attempt too

difficult. But if you were sure you could, you might come here

to-morrow--a day otherwise interdicted. Only know, having come, that if

you open those dear cupboards of vision and set eyes on things not yet

intended to be looked at, there will be confusion of tongues in this

Tower we are building whose top is to reach heaven. Will you come? I

don't say "come"; I only want to know--will you?

To-day my love flies low over the earth like a swallow before rain, and

touching the tops of the flowers has culled you these. Kiss them until

they open: they are full of my thoughts, as the world, to me, is full of

you.




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