 | Poems by Frances Sargent Osgood |  |
XXV. COME WITH THAT TRUE HEART.
Come with that true heart, all petty doubts scorning;
Come with that smile, which is day to my night;
Come with those blushes, that mock a May morning,
Dear truant tell-tales of love and delight.
Come with that smile, which is day to my night;
Come with those blushes, that mock a May morning,
Dear truant tell-tales of love and delight.
Come with that step, like a flower-sylph's in fleetness;
Come with those tresses that gleam as they flow;
Come with that lute-tone's ineffable sweetness;
Breathe on my bosom its melody low.
Come with those tresses that gleam as they flow;
Come with that lute-tone's ineffable sweetness;
Breathe on my bosom its melody low.
Gem of a life that is joyless without thee!
Rose in Hope's wilderness! bird of Love's bower!
Balm, light, and melody floating about thee,—
Which art thou, darling—bird, jewel, or flower?
Rose in Hope's wilderness! bird of Love's bower!
Balm, light, and melody floating about thee,—
Which art thou, darling—bird, jewel, or flower?
| Poems by Frances Sargent Osgood | |