 | The lion's cub |  |
THE WALK AT NIGHT.
Tell me what is sweeter
Than a walk at night,
With one we love beside us
And the moon in sight?
Than a walk at night,
With one we love beside us
And the moon in sight?
Who would have thought the Spring-time
So prodigal could be?
Behold the blossoms burning,
Like lamps on every tree.
So prodigal could be?
Behold the blossoms burning,
Like lamps on every tree.
45
What tree is this? An almond?
A peach, it seems to me;
And the fruit there—pluck it darling,
The heart I offer thee.
A peach, it seems to me;
And the fruit there—pluck it darling,
The heart I offer thee.
| The lion's cub | |