I thank you, kind and best belov|"ed friend, <br />With the same thanks one murmurs to a sister, <br />When, for some gentle favor, he hath kissed her, <br />Less for the gifts than for the love you send, <br />Less for the flowers than what the flowers convey, <br />If I, indeed, divine their meaning truly, <br />And not unto myself ascribe, unduly, <br />Things which you neither meant nor wished to say, <br />Oh! tell me, is the hope then all misplaced? <br />And am I flattered by my own affection? <br />But in your beauteous gift, methought I traced <br />Something above a short-lived predilection, <br />And which, for that I know no dearer name, <br />I designate as love, without love's flame.<br /><br />Henry Timrod<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-13/
