 | My Lyrical Life |  |
IX.
Home when the happy day is done,
Home comes my little Maid;
Her pleasure—golden in the sun—
Now dewy in the shade.
Thoughts of the day will hover and bless
Her sleep with sacred balminess.
Home comes my little Maid;
Her pleasure—golden in the sun—
Now dewy in the shade.
Thoughts of the day will hover and bless
Her sleep with sacred balminess.
Through shutting eve the stars will peep,
But still there comes no night;
'Tis but the Day hath fallen asleep
And smiles in dreams of light.
And Martha feels the heart of Love
Beat on in silent stars above.
But still there comes no night;
'Tis but the Day hath fallen asleep
And smiles in dreams of light.
212
Beat on in silent stars above.
| My Lyrical Life | |