 | Poems |  |
64
MY LITTLE LOVE.
When my little love at purple dusk,
Trips out upon the lawn among the flowers,
The blushing roses quiver in their musk,
Love-smitten through: the feathery, fragrant showers
Of snow-white blossoms drift upon the grass,
Kissing her whispering footsteps as they pass.
Trips out upon the lawn among the flowers,
The blushing roses quiver in their musk,
Love-smitten through: the feathery, fragrant showers
Of snow-white blossoms drift upon the grass,
Kissing her whispering footsteps as they pass.
When my little love at evening's hush,
Goes dancing down the dell with laugh and song,
The slumbering echoes waken, and a gush
Of silvery voices greet her, and along
The dewy clusters of the trailing vines
In music mingles, murmurs, and repines.
Goes dancing down the dell with laugh and song,
The slumbering echoes waken, and a gush
Of silvery voices greet her, and along
The dewy clusters of the trailing vines
In music mingles, murmurs, and repines.
When my little love hath sought her cot
To dream of angels, as the stars grow clear
I homeward plod—alas! unhappy lot—
Yet turn again—I'd long to tarry near—
Till slowly wandering, thinking of her still,
I meet the blue night coming o'er the hill.
To dream of angels, as the stars grow clear
I homeward plod—alas! unhappy lot—
Yet turn again—I'd long to tarry near—
Till slowly wandering, thinking of her still,
I meet the blue night coming o'er the hill.
| Poems | |