I love you

When april bends above me,
And finds me fast asleep,
Dust need not keep the secret,
A live heart died to keep,

When april tells the thrushes,
The meadow larks will know,
And pipe the three words lightly,
to all the winds that blow,

Above his roof the swallows,
In notes like far blown rain,
Will tell the little sparrow,
Beside his window pane,

O sparrow-little sparrow,
When I am fast asleep,
Then tell my love the secret,
That I have died to keep.

                                    -Poet_Laurete-