The poems of Richard Henry Stoddard complete edition |
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[She does not hear my sighing] |
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 | The poems of Richard Henry Stoddard |  |
[She does not hear my sighing]
She does not hear my sighing,
My rose, my willow leaf;
And if she heard, what matter?
She would not heal my grief.
My rose, my willow leaf;
And if she heard, what matter?
She would not heal my grief.
Come to me, dear, when day breaks,
And come when day doth close;
I'm drunken with your beauty,
O European Rose!
And come when day doth close;
I'm drunken with your beauty,
O European Rose!
And if she's from Arabia,
This little love of mine,
Her mouth shall be my wine-glass,
Her kiss shall be my wine!
This little love of mine,
Her mouth shall be my wine-glass,
Her kiss shall be my wine!
Her travelling-packs are ready,
She fastens on her shawl;
Were I the shawl I'd hold her,
She should not go at all.
She fastens on her shawl;
Were I the shawl I'd hold her,
She should not go at all.
205
When shall I see thee, darling,
And lighten my poor heart?
I come once more to whisper
Its secrets—and depart.
And lighten my poor heart?
I come once more to whisper
Its secrets—and depart.
| The poems of Richard Henry Stoddard | |