BY GEORGE P. MORRIS.
I knew a sweet girl,
with a bonny blue eye,
Who was born in the shade
The witch-hazel-tree made,
Where the brook sang a song
All the summer-day long,
And the moments, like birdlings went by,—
Like the birdlings the moments flew by.
I knew a fair maid,
soul enchanting in grace,
Who replied to my vow,
Neath the hazel-tree bough:
"Like the brook to the sea,
Oh, I yearn, love, for thee."
And she hid in my bosom her face—
In my bosom her beautiful face.
I have a dear wife,
who is ever my guide;
Wooed and won in the shade
The witch-hazel tree made,
Where the brook sings its song
All the summer day long,
And the moments in harmony glide,
Like our lives they in harmony glide.
No comments:
Post a Comment