 | English melodies |  |
80
A WISH.
Her lips like rose and rose-bud meet,
Close shut at eve, and folded sweet;
The dew may gain that soft retreat,
And enter in unheeded:
Oh! happy dew, might I do this,
Thus trembling win that home of bliss—
Thus lose existence in a kiss—
I'd care not how time speeded.
Close shut at eve, and folded sweet;
The dew may gain that soft retreat,
And enter in unheeded:
Oh! happy dew, might I do this,
Thus trembling win that home of bliss—
Thus lose existence in a kiss—
I'd care not how time speeded.
Her hair—one curl had left the rest,
And hung as lightly o'er her breast,
As if her bosom it caress'd,
And in its beauty prided;
Oh! happy curl, such charms to press,
To meet the breath that heaves to bless—
Would I might clasp such loveliness,
And touch that cheek unchided!
And hung as lightly o'er her breast,
As if her bosom it caress'd,
And in its beauty prided;
Oh! happy curl, such charms to press,
To meet the breath that heaves to bless—
Would I might clasp such loveliness,
And touch that cheek unchided!
| English melodies | |