Perhaps I have put first what should have come last.

I have not told you that I love you earnestly and sincerely, with the settled, unalterable love that sometimes comes to men in middle-age who have never turned their thought that way before.
I will not attempt the rhapsodies of passion which at my time of life might sound foolish or out of place; yet it is true that I am filled with this passion which has descended on me and taken possession of me.
I who often have laughed at such things in other men, adore you.

You are a joy to my eyes.

If you are not in the room, for me it is empty.

I admire the uprightness of your character, and even your prejudices, and to your standard I desire to approximate my own.