The adopted daughter and other tales |
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25. | NANNY. |
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The adopted daughter | ||
235
NANNY.
Oh! for an hour when the day is breaking,
Down by the shore where the tide is making!
Fair as a white cloud, thou, love, near me—
None but the waves and thyself to hear me;
Oh! to my heart how these arms would press thee—
Wildly my heart in its joy would bless thee!
Oh! how the soul thou hast won would woo thee—
Girl of the snow neck, closer to me!
Oh! for an hour, as the day advances,
Out where the breeze on the broom-bush dances,
Watching the lark, with the sun-ray o'er us,
Winging the notes of his Heaven-taught chorus;
Oh, to be there, and my love before me,
Soft as a moon-beam smiling o'er me!
Thou wouldst but love, and I would woo thee—
Girl of the dark eye, closer to me.
Oh! for an hour when the sun first found us,
(Out in the eve with its red sheets round us),
Brushing the dew from the gale's soft winglets—
Pearly and sweet with thy long dark ringlets.
Oh! to be there on the sward beside thee,
Telling my tale, though I know you'd chide me;
Sweet were thy voice, though it would undo me—
Girl of the dark locks, closer to me.
Oh! for an hour by night or by day, love,
Just as the heavens and thee might say, love,
Far from the stare of the cold-eyed many,
Bound in the breath of my dove-soul'd Nanny!
Oh! for the pure chains that have bound me.
Warm from thy red lips, circling round me!
Oh! in my soul, as the light above me,
Queen of the pure hearts, do I love thee.
Down by the shore where the tide is making!
Fair as a white cloud, thou, love, near me—
None but the waves and thyself to hear me;
Oh! to my heart how these arms would press thee—
Wildly my heart in its joy would bless thee!
Oh! how the soul thou hast won would woo thee—
Girl of the snow neck, closer to me!
Oh! for an hour, as the day advances,
Out where the breeze on the broom-bush dances,
Watching the lark, with the sun-ray o'er us,
Winging the notes of his Heaven-taught chorus;
Oh, to be there, and my love before me,
Soft as a moon-beam smiling o'er me!
Thou wouldst but love, and I would woo thee—
Girl of the dark eye, closer to me.
Oh! for an hour when the sun first found us,
(Out in the eve with its red sheets round us),
Brushing the dew from the gale's soft winglets—
Pearly and sweet with thy long dark ringlets.
Oh! to be there on the sward beside thee,
Telling my tale, though I know you'd chide me;
Sweet were thy voice, though it would undo me—
Girl of the dark locks, closer to me.
Oh! for an hour by night or by day, love,
Just as the heavens and thee might say, love,
Far from the stare of the cold-eyed many,
Bound in the breath of my dove-soul'd Nanny!
Oh! for the pure chains that have bound me.
Warm from thy red lips, circling round me!
Oh! in my soul, as the light above me,
Queen of the pure hearts, do I love thee.
The adopted daughter | ||