Come To My Garden Walk, My Love. Pass By The Fervid Flowers That
Press Themselves On Your Sight. Pass Them By, Stopping At Some
Chance Joy, Which Like A Sudden Wonder Of Sunset Illumines, Yet
Elude.
For Lover's Gift Is Shy, It Never Tells Its Name, It Flits
Across The Shade, Spreading A Shiver Of Joy Along The Dust.
Overtake It Or Miss It For Ever. But A Gift That Can Be
Grasped Is Merely A Frail Flower, Or A Lamp With Flame That Will
Flicker.
Press Themselves On Your Sight. Pass Them By, Stopping At Some
Chance Joy, Which Like A Sudden Wonder Of Sunset Illumines, Yet
Elude.
For Lover's Gift Is Shy, It Never Tells Its Name, It Flits
Across The Shade, Spreading A Shiver Of Joy Along The Dust.
Overtake It Or Miss It For Ever. But A Gift That Can Be
Grasped Is Merely A Frail Flower, Or A Lamp With Flame That Will
Flicker.
No comments:
Post a Comment