We have a secret, you and I,
That no one else shall know,
For who, but I can see you lie,
Each night, in the fire’s glow
And who but I can reach my hand
Before we go to bed,
And feel the living warmth of you
And touch your silken head? |
And only I walk the bushland paths,
And see ahead of me,
Your form racing with the wind,
So young again, and free.
And only I can see you swim
In every river I pass.
And, when I call, no one but I
Can see the bending grass |
