 | Beads from a Rosary |  |
“He is there, he is there—
I have called him, sister fair;
Cowslip, hearest thou?
Hark! across the bending grass
Something like a tune doth pass,
Very faint and low.
Hark again! the breeze is dying—
Like his drowsy voice replying,
Sounds that murmur now.
Cowslip, speak more loud and clear,
Till thine answer meet our ear.”
I have called him, sister fair;
Cowslip, hearest thou?
47
Something like a tune doth pass,
Very faint and low.
Hark again! the breeze is dying—
Like his drowsy voice replying,
Sounds that murmur now.
Cowslip, speak more loud and clear,
Till thine answer meet our ear.”
| Beads from a Rosary | |