 | The woman who dared |  |
UNDER THE PINES.
O pine-trees! bid the busy breeze be still
That through your tops roars like the constant surge:
Such was the sound I heard in happy days
Under the pines.
That through your tops roars like the constant surge:
Such was the sound I heard in happy days
Under the pines.
In happy days, when those I loved were by;
In happy days, when love was daily food;
And jocund childhood, finding it, found joy
Under the pines.
In happy days, when love was daily food;
And jocund childhood, finding it, found joy
Under the pines.
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Again I hear the west-wind in your tops;
Again I scent the odor you exhale;
But sound and odor now provoke but tears
Under the pines.
Again I scent the odor you exhale;
But sound and odor now provoke but tears
Under the pines.
O pine-trees! shall a different joy be mine,
One day when I shall seek your fragrant shade?
Whisper it faintly, breezes, to my heart
Under the pines
One day when I shall seek your fragrant shade?
Whisper it faintly, breezes, to my heart
Under the pines
| The woman who dared | |