 | Poems with Fables in Prose |  |
122
In Summer-time when Mary bathes
In summer-time when Mary bathes
And floats along as in a sky,
O might I be the stream that swathes
Her beauty with infinity!
And floats along as in a sky,
O might I be the stream that swathes
Her beauty with infinity!
O might I be that stealing song
The brown bird sings her from above
While in the dark wood, late and long,
She listens, and forgets to love!
The brown bird sings her from above
While in the dark wood, late and long,
She listens, and forgets to love!
Or else the rose, the rose that bends
To Mary, all its soul to give,
And on her dreamy bosom spends
The only day it has to live!
To Mary, all its soul to give,
And on her dreamy bosom spends
The only day it has to live!
| Poems with Fables in Prose | |