Fantasy and Passion | ||
69
A BIRD OF PASSAGE.
As the day's last light is dying,As the night's first breeze is sighing,
I send you, Love, like a messenger-dove, my thought through the distance flying!
Let it perch on your sill; or, better,
Let it feel your soft hand's fetter,
While you search and bring from under its wing, love, hidden away like a letter!
Fantasy and Passion | ||