I Love You
I love you,
Not only for what you are
But for what I am.

I love you
Not only for what
You have made of yourself
But for what
You are making of me.

I love you
For the part of me
That you bring out
I love you
For putting your hand
Into my heaped up heart
And passing over
All the foolish, weak things,
That you can't help
Dimly seeing there
And for drawing out
Into the light
All the beautiful belongings
That no one else had looked
Quite far enough to find.

I love you because you. . . .

. . .are helping me to make
Of the lumber of my life
Not a tavern
But a temple;
Out of works
Of my every day
Not a reproach
But a song.

I love you
Because you have done
More than any creed
Could have done
To make me good,
And more than any fate
Could have done
To make me happy.

You have done it
Without a touch
Without a word
Without a sigh
You have done it
By being yourself.
Perhaps that is what
Being a friend really means
After all.

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