 | Ballads and other verses |  |
97
CANZONET.
(TO A VENETIAN AIR.)
Clarian, beautiful and young,—
Poet's lyre was never strung,
Burning lips have never sung
To a sweeter, dearer theme:
What can such as I bring you,
Maiden, beautiful and true?—
Only music in a dream!
Poet's lyre was never strung,
Burning lips have never sung
To a sweeter, dearer theme:
What can such as I bring you,
Maiden, beautiful and true?—
Only music in a dream!
Is it music that I bring
From a worn and loosened string,—
(Once it sang like birds in spring
When in upper air they fly!)
Clarian, when your loveliness
Dawns upon a soul to bless,
It must sing, or it will die!
From a worn and loosened string,—
(Once it sang like birds in spring
When in upper air they fly!)
Clarian, when your loveliness
Dawns upon a soul to bless,
It must sing, or it will die!
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