Never seek to tell thy love, Love that never told can be; For the gentle wind doth move Silently, invisibly. I told my love, I told my love, I told her all my heart, Trembling, cold, in ghastly fears. Ah! She did depart! Soon after she was gone from me, A traveller came by, Silently, invisibly He took her with a sigh Love’s Secret, William Blake (1757-1827)