 | Letters of Laura D'Auverne |  |
83
I WISH MY LOVE WERE SOME FAIR STREAM.
I wish my love were some fair stream,
Soft singing through her woodland way;
And I some star, whose loving beam
Might in her bosom rest its ray.
Soft singing through her woodland way;
And I some star, whose loving beam
Might in her bosom rest its ray.
I wish my love were like the dew,
Half hidden 'neath the rose's lip;
And I the young dawn, trembling through
The fragrance, none but I might sip!
Half hidden 'neath the rose's lip;
And I the young dawn, trembling through
The fragrance, none but I might sip!
I wish—like flowers that fondly meet,
And cheer and charm the humblest spot—
Our lives might blend while life was sweet,
And even death divide us not!
And cheer and charm the humblest spot—
Our lives might blend while life was sweet,
And even death divide us not!
| Letters of Laura D'Auverne | |