 | Songs and ballads by Samuel Lover |  |
OH, SHE IS A BRIGHT-EYED THING!
Oh, she is a bright-eyed thing!
And her glances, wildly playing,
While they radiance round her fling,
Set my loving fancy straying
Where to find a thing so bright;—
'Tis not in the diamond's light:
The jewels of the richest mine
Lack the lustre so to shine—
For gems are cold—and cannot vie
With living light from beauty's eye!
And her glances, wildly playing,
While they radiance round her fling,
Set my loving fancy straying
Where to find a thing so bright;—
'Tis not in the diamond's light:
The jewels of the richest mine
Lack the lustre so to shine—
For gems are cold—and cannot vie
With living light from beauty's eye!
123
Oh, she is a bright-lip'd thing!
And her mouth like budding roses,
Fragrance all around doth fling
When its matchless arch uncloses;
With a voice, whose silver tone
Makes the raptured listener own
It may be true, what poets tell,
That nightingales 'mid roses dwell,
For every word she says to me
Sounds like sweetest melody!
And her mouth like budding roses,
Fragrance all around doth fling
When its matchless arch uncloses;
With a voice, whose silver tone
Makes the raptured listener own
It may be true, what poets tell,
That nightingales 'mid roses dwell,
For every word she says to me
Sounds like sweetest melody!
| Songs and ballads by Samuel Lover | |