 | My Lyrical Life |  |
SYLVIA MAY.
“
Heart
of mine, so longing for rest,
Better to build thy love-lined Nest
On a storm-swung bough than a Woman's breast.”
Better to build thy love-lined Nest
On a storm-swung bough than a Woman's breast.”
But this heart of mine still sayeth me, “Nay;”
Shows me the picture of Sylvia May;
Wilful hearts must have their way!
Shows me the picture of Sylvia May;
Wilful hearts must have their way!
“Heart of mine, far wiser 'twould be
To build thy Nest on a wave of the sea,
Tossed and troubled perpetually.”
To build thy Nest on a wave of the sea,
Tossed and troubled perpetually.”
But this heart of mine still sayeth me, “Nay;”
And whispers the name of Sylvia May:
Foolish hearts will have their way!
And whispers the name of Sylvia May:
Foolish hearts will have their way!
“Never was love I think like mine;
Never was woman so nearly divine;
Never could lives more perfectly twine.”
Never was woman so nearly divine;
Never could lives more perfectly twine.”
And this heart of mine it murmureth, “Yea;”
Wilful hearts must have their way—
When will you marry me, Sylvia May?
Wilful hearts must have their way—
When will you marry me, Sylvia May?
| My Lyrical Life | |