You

Oh, when I type my messages to you
I am a pianist expressing true
My deepest heart’s most deepest love for you.
And though all keys are black, none minor are,
But majorly in joy they sing to you.
Not wild am I, though fingers trembling are,
For self-control sends every note to you,
And though for space I touch a lower bar,
I’m quick back to the place of higher you!
Then, pianist sublime, love’s music’s star,
I will these slaving keys to rave of you,
Which, un-rebellious, find themselves afar
And free, in world of joy to sing of you,
All harmonized on you, and you, and you!

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