I Love You

WHEN April bends above me And finds me fast asleep, Dust need not keep the secret A live heart died to keep.

When April tells the thrushes, The meadow-larks will know, And pipe the three words lightly To all the winds that blow.

Above his roof the swallows, In notes like far-blown rain, Will tell the little sparrow Beside his window-pane.

O sparrow, little sparrow, When I am fast asleep, Then tell my love the secret That I have died to keep. Sara Teasdale