William Blake (1757–1827)

NEVER seek to tell thy love,

Love that never told can be:

For the gentle wind doth move

Silently, invisibly.

I told my love, I told my love,

I told her all my heart,

Trembling, cold, in ghastly fears:—

Ah! she did depart.

Soon after she was gone from me

A traveller came by,

Silently, invisibly:

He took her with a sigh.