Ballads and other verses | ||
81
PERDITA.
A sweet-brier grew at my door,
And perfumed the ground at my feet;
Was it a rose?—it was she
Who made all the pathway so sweet!
And perfumed the ground at my feet;
Was it a rose?—it was she
Who made all the pathway so sweet!
A bonny bird sang in the eaves,—
What music with that can compare!
Was it a bird?—it was she
Whose voice had enchanted the air!
What music with that can compare!
Was it a bird?—it was she
Whose voice had enchanted the air!
Oh the brier-rose drooped on its stalk,
And the bonny bird flitted away,
But the fragrance and song in my heart
For ever and ever will stay!
And the bonny bird flitted away,
But the fragrance and song in my heart
For ever and ever will stay!
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