E. E. ST. L. HILL
Reading edition
(
KEBLE
)
DIFFIDENCE
Dulled is the azure of the skies. Can aught but woe my woes beget? My inmost self in anguish cries "I love my Love"—My Love!—and yet I cannot as a lover say "I love my Love," because I know I am not worthy. Still I may Win in the end the right to show My Love what is my heart's desire. For more than this I may not hope, To naught beyond can I aspire. Alone, in secret, I must grope My way and be content to see The beauty of my star above, For never will my Love love me Though I so truly love my Love.