We have a secret, you and I

that no one else shall know,

for who but I can see you lie

each night in fire 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 woodland paths

and see ahead of me,

your small form racing with the wind

so young again, and free.

And only I can see you swim

in every brook I pass

and when I call, no one but I

can see the bending grass.