Love
I love you,
Not only for what you are,
But for what I am
When I am with you.

I love you,
Not only for what
You have make of yourself,
But for what
You are making me.

I love you,
For the part of me
That you bring out;
I love you
For putting your hand
Into my heaped-up heart
And passing oner
All the foolish, weak things
That you cant help
Dinly seeing there,
And for drawing out
Into the light
All the beautifut belongings
That no one else had looked
Quite far enough to find.

I love you because you
Are helping me to make
Of the lumber of my life
Not a tavern
But a temple;
Out of the works
Of my every day
Not a reproach
But a song.

I love you
Because you have done
More than any creed
Could have done
To make me happy.

You have done it
Without a touch,
Without a work,
Without a sign,
You have done it.
Perhape that is what
Being a friend means,
After all.