I love you,
Not only for what you are, 
But for what I am When I am with you.
I love you,
Not only for what
You have made of yourself, But for what
You are making of me.
I love you
For the part of me That you bring out;
I love you
For putting your hand
Into my heaped-up heart
And passing over
All the foolish, weak things 
That you can't help
 Dimly seeing there, 
And for drawing out Into the light
All the beautiful belongings
That no one else has looked
Quite far enough to find.
I love you because you 
Are helping me to make 
Of the lumber of my life
Not a tavern 
But a temple;
Out of the works 
Of my every day
Not a reproach
But a song.
I love you
Because you have done 
More than any creed 
Could have done
To make me good, 
And more than any fate
Could have done 
To make me happy.
You have done it 
Without a touch, 
Without a word, 
Without a sign.
You have done it 
By being yourself.
Perhaps that is what 
Being a friend means,
After all.
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