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From A Secret Admirer

Nicholas Gordon

Whose gift this is you cannot know.
My heart is in your keeping though.
You will not mind my writing here
To tell you that I love you so.

I know that you must think it queer
For me to love and not come near
But linger by some frozen lake
This most romantic time of year.

I sometimes give my head a shake
And ask if there is some mistake.
It's lonely out here 'mid the sweep
Of bitter wind and icy flake.

My love for you is dark and deep,
But it's a promise I will keep
As from afar I watch and weep,
As from afar I watch and weep.

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