I love you with that tenderness of spirit, that purity of truth, that sincerity of heart, that I could sacrifice the nearest friends or interests I have on earth barely to please you.
If I had all the world, it should be yours; for with it I could but be miserable, were you not mine.
In short, you will quickly become to me the greatest blessing or the greatest curse that ever man was doomed to.
Oh, if I could but burn into your spirit the deep –the true meaning which I attach to those three syllables underlined! But, alas! The effort is all in vain and ‘I live and die unheard.
And now, in the most simple words I can
command, let me paint to you the impression made upon me by your personal presence.
As you entered the room, pale, hesitating, and evidently oppressed at heart; as your eyes rested for one
brief moment upon mine, I felt, for the first time in my life, and tremblingly acknowledged, the existence of spiritual influences altogether out of the reach of the reason.
I would comfort you – soothe you – tranquillize you. You would rest from care – from all worldly perturbation.
You would get better and finally well.
And if not Daisy – if you died – then, at
least, I would clasp your dear hands in death, and willingly – oh, joyfully – joyfully go down with you into the night of the grave.
From that hour I have never been able to shake from my soul the belief that my Destiny, for good or for evil, either here or hereafter, is in some measure interwoven with your own.
All thoughts – all passions seem now merged in that one consuming desire – the mere wish to make you comprehend – to make you see that for which there is no human voice – the unutterable fervor of my love for you.
So,say to me those coveted words that would turn Earth into Heaven.
My love has made me selfish. I cannot exist without you. I am forgetful of everything but seeing you again; my Life seems to stop there; I see no further. You have absorbed me. I have a sensation at the present moment as though I was
dissolving: I should be exquisitely miserable without the hope of soon seeing you.
I love you ever and ever and without reserve. The more I have known you the more have I loved. In every way, — even my jealousies have been agonies of Love; in the hottest fit I ever had I would have died for you.
I have been astonished that men could die Martyrs for religion, — I have shuddered at it. I shudder no more; I could be martyred for my Religion, — love is my religion, — I could die for
that. I could die for you.
This union is love – genuine, complete love, such as few men can imagine. It is a love which is a religion, since the object of love is regarded as a divinity, with all the devotion and affection which turn the greatest sacrifices into the sublimest joys.
Such a love you inspire in me, and such a love you will someday feel for me, although to my sorrow you do not feel it now. Your soul is incapable of an angelic love. It may be, therefore, that only an angel can inspire such a love.
Yes, I am your husband, your defender, protector, slave. On the day that I lose that conviction I shall have ceased to live, because my life will have lost its foundation. You are the only person to whom I can confide the desire, hope, and love that is within me – my soul itself.
I am in such haste that I know not what I write, but I do know that I love you more tenderly than ever, that the pain of this separation was necessary to convince me how very dear you are to me, and that I would give at this moment half my existence for the pleasure of embracing you again, and telling you with my own lips how well I love you.
Daisy,I only know that heaven watches over fools like me who spend all their life just being devoted to loving you!