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Robert Laurence Binyon - An Old Answer
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Ask me not, Dear, what thing it is
 That makes me love you so;
 What graces, what sweet qualities,
 That from your spirit flow:
 For I have but this old reply,
 That you are you, that I am I.

 My heart leaps when you look on me,
 And thrills to hear your voice.
 Lies, then, in these the mystery
 That makes my soul rejoice?
 I only know, I love you true;
 Since I am I, and you are you.
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