I Want To Talk To Thee

I want to talk to thee of many things Or sit in silence when the robin sings His littl' song, when comes the winter bleak, I want to sit beside thee, cheek by cheek. I want to hear thy voice my name repeat, To fill my heart with echoes ever sweet; I want to hear thy love come calling me, I want to seek and find but thee, but thee. I want to talk to thee of little things So fond, so frail, so foolish that one clings To keep them ours—who could but understand A joy in speaking them, thus hand in hand Beside the fire; our joys, our hopes, our fears, Our secret laughter, or unchidden tears; Each day old dreams come back with beating wings, I want to speak of these forgotten things. I want to feel thy arms around me pressed, To hide my weeping eyes upon thy breast; I want thy strength to hold and comfort me For all the grief I had in losing thee.