We Met As Strangers

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We met as strangers on life's lonely way,
  And yet it seemed we knew each other well;
There was no end to what thou hadst to say,
  Or to the thousand things I found to tell.
My heart, long silent, at thy voice that day
  Chimed in my breast like to a silver bell.

How much we spoke, and yet still left untold
  Some secret half revealed within our eyes:
Didst thou not love me once in ages old?
  Had I not called thee with importunate cries,
And, like a child left sobbing in the cold,
  Listened to catch from far thy fond replies?

We met as strangers, and as such we part;
  Yet all my life seems leaving me with thine;
Ah, to be clasped once only heart to heart,
  If only once to feel that thou wert mine!
These lips are locked, and yet I know thou art
  That all in all for which my soul did pine.

© Mathilde Blind