Before you speak the words so sweet,
And raise her hopes to soaring heights,
Pause and reflect, with thoughtful feet,
Lest love's true meaning takes its flight. If her smile does not make you sigh,
No trembling heart, no breathless gaze,
No longing for her touch so nigh,
Then love's not there, in all its ways. If her laughter fills you not with glee,
No knuckles clenched in silent prayer,
No fear of loss, no ecstasy,
Then love's not there, beyond compare. But if you find her quirks a bore,
And roll your eyes at every whim,
Then love’s a chore, a tiresome lore,
A sinking ship, a...