Sonnet Ccxcvii: Poem by George Henry Boker

O say thou lovest me; say it o'er again;
Ring all the changes on that blissful phrase;
Say it with lip, mouth, tongue; in all the ways
That utterance hath, in peace, in joy, in pain!
Say it in silence, when thy soft eyes rain
Welcome upon me; when before my praise,
Like a young lily, slowly downward sways
Thy gleaming face, afire through every vein.
Say it with clasping hand, with tears that pour
At hint of parting; with the widowed air
My briefest absence makes thy features wear.
O say thou lovest me; say it o'er and o'er;
Let word, look, act, the gracious tidings bear;
Now say thou lovest me, my Beloved, once more!