 | Ailes d'Alouette |  |
30
THE SHADOW OF LOVE
THE branching shades in woodland glades
Seem to the under fern
Wide as the night that leaves no light,—
No shape can they discern.
Seem to the under fern
Wide as the night that leaves no light,—
No shape can they discern.
And we, who seek in senses weak
Love's form to entertain,—
So far Love's whole o'erspreads the soul,—
Too oft see only pain.
Love's form to entertain,—
So far Love's whole o'erspreads the soul,—
Too oft see only pain.
| Ailes d'Alouette | |