A Whisper.

A Whisper.
554.4

“I love you, dear.” High in the tree
That spread its sheltering branches near,
A song-bird trilled an ecstasy.
“I love you, dear.”

The gray mist rose from hill and mere,
But no rain fell for you and me;
And all our sky was bright and clear.

“Tis such a happy thing to see
The sunshine through the clouds appear,
When Some One whispers
tenderly: “I love you, dear.”
-August Lippincott’s.

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