I didn't love you for your pretty face;
Although I loved your modest, quiet beauty
from the very first moment I saw you.
But it wasn't for your face that I loved you.
I didn't love you for your sparkling eyes;
Although I loved your bright, bewitching glance
that conquered me like no army ever could.
But it wasn't for your eyes that I loved you.
I didn't love you for your gentle voice;
Although I loved your enchanting song and speech:
every note, every word like honey.
But it wasn't for your voice that I loved you.
I didn't love you for your luminous charm;
Although I loved your captivating ways—
your electric, intoxicating femininity.
But it wasn't for your charm that I loved you.
I didn't love you for your brilliant mind;
Although I loved your deep, perceptive heart,
your keen, intriguing thoughts and clever wit.
But it wasn't for your mind that I loved you.
I didn't love you for your delicate form;
Although I loved it, elegant and exquisite.
Every curve, every line, perfection.
But it wasn't for your shape that I loved you.
I loved you because your soul touched mine;
and when it did,
and when it did,
for the first time,
I felt like I was Home.
-- M.S. du Pré