106
Poems
And I would fold my spirit wings,—
To come down to your common things,—
About my higher part;
And listening to your tenderness,
Be happy for a little space,
And nestle in your heart.
To come down to your common things,—
About my higher part;
And listening to your tenderness,
Be happy for a little space,
And nestle in your heart.
But oh! my fancies! how they'd crowd,
And for more space would cry aloud,
Close locked away from you!
Your arms would be but prison bars,
To keep me from the clouds and stars
And darken Heaven's blue.
And for more space would cry aloud,
Close locked away from you!
Your arms would be but prison bars,
To keep me from the clouds and stars
And darken Heaven's blue.
These words will grieve you sore, I fear.
Let us be the kind friends and dear,
We were, before the pain
Of this unhappy love, to mar
Our friendship, and to rudely jar
Our peace, had come.
Heléne.
Let us be the kind friends and dear,
We were, before the pain
Of this unhappy love, to mar
Our friendship, and to rudely jar
Our peace, had come.
Heléne.
