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 | 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition |  |
THE NEW SONG.
There is a song not syllabled by word,
That thrills the bosom of the virgin wood,
A language dear to butterfly and bird,
With which the bubbles of the brooks are stirr'd;
That thrills the bosom of the virgin wood,
A language dear to butterfly and bird,
With which the bubbles of the brooks are stirr'd;
It is a strain of universal good,
That all the ages never understood,
But yet from children's lips its chimes are heard,
And sweetly breathed from budding maidenhood.
That all the ages never understood,
But yet from children's lips its chimes are heard,
And sweetly breathed from budding maidenhood.
And thou this secret tongue canst call thy own,
For every mystery by the breezes blown,
Is only to thy ears a simple tale;
For every mystery by the breezes blown,
Is only to thy ears a simple tale;
And whispers of the daisies in the dale,
Were, ere embodied, to thy spirit known,
And all the passion of the nightingale.
Were, ere embodied, to thy spirit known,
And all the passion of the nightingale.
| 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition | |