Sonnet: I thank you

I thank you, kind and best beloved friend.

With the same thanks one murmurs to as sister,

When, for some gentle favour, he hath kissed her.

Less for the gifts than for the love you send,

Less for the flowers, than what the flowers convey;

 If I, indeed, divine their meaning truly,

And not onto myself ascribe, unduly.

Things which you neither meant nor wished to say,

Oh! Tell me, is the hope then all misplaced?

And I am flattered by my own affection?

But in your beauteous gift, methought I traced

Something above a short-lived predilection,

And which, for that I know no dearer name,

I designate as love, without love`s flame.

Henry Timrod

Allie Esiri The Love Book