LOVE’S REASON

What makes me love you?—Well, In truth, I cannot tell! I love, but know not why— I only know I do, And shall while I am I And you are you. It is your voice, maybe, That draws the heart from me And makes it yours alone: Your voice it is—yet, nay, ’Tis not so much your tone As what you say. Perhaps it is your rare And winsome, happy air, Your eyes of sunny blue, Your silvery laughter glad— And yet, I love you too When you are sad. Though sweet your voice, and sweet Your words be, when we meet, And sweet the changeful light Your heaven-deep eyes disclose— I do not love you quite For these or those. I love you—yet I try In vain to tell you why! I love you by no laws Men know or ever knew, But just, I think, because You’re simply—you!