 | Poems |  |
120
I WOULD THE WORLD WERE MINE.
Oh! I would the world were all mine own,
With its gay green fields and its rosy bowers,
And its drooping trees, where I alone
Might gather the buds that first were blown,
And weave a thousand fairy bowers
For thee—for thee!
With its gay green fields and its rosy bowers,
And its drooping trees, where I alone
Might gather the buds that first were blown,
And weave a thousand fairy bowers
For thee—for thee!
Oh! I would the world were mine, with all
Its changeful skies which the soft stars beam in!
No scorching rays of the sun should fall,
But it should be to me, to all,
A moonlight world for Love to dream in
Of thee—of thee!
Its changeful skies which the soft stars beam in!
No scorching rays of the sun should fall,
But it should be to me, to all,
A moonlight world for Love to dream in
Of thee—of thee!
Oh! I would the world were mine, for then
I'd still the waves of the boundless ocean,
And swiftly I'd fly from the haunts of men
In some fairy bark which returned again
The dark blue water's rippling motion,
With thee—with thee!
I'd still the waves of the boundless ocean,
And swiftly I'd fly from the haunts of men
In some fairy bark which returned again
The dark blue water's rippling motion,
With thee—with thee!
121
Oh! would that the world indeed could be
All, all my own—'twould then be thine!
Thy heart were world enough for me,
And to gain it I'd give the earth and sea—
Oh! worlds on worlds, if they were mine—
To thee—to thee!
All, all my own—'twould then be thine!
Thy heart were world enough for me,
And to gain it I'd give the earth and sea—
Oh! worlds on worlds, if they were mine—
To thee—to thee!
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