 | Songs and Lyrics |  |
85
The Moth.
To-night a gilded moth took wing,
And round-a-round yon wax-light flew;
And, while his flight did her enring,
He nearer to the dazzler drew.
And round-a-round yon wax-light flew;
And, while his flight did her enring,
He nearer to the dazzler drew.
“So fair art thou,” he cried, “to view,
I'd die upon thy lips to feed;”
And so must snatch a kiss and rue—
Ah, he was murder'd for the deed!
I'd die upon thy lips to feed;”
And so must snatch a kiss and rue—
Ah, he was murder'd for the deed!
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