220
La fleur et le papillon.
Thou fliest, then returnest, still adorning
Thy various spheres;
Still finding me with every new-born morning
Bathed in my tears.
Thy various spheres;
Still finding me with every new-born morning
Bathed in my tears.
Oh! that our love may still be true and tender,
My king divine!
Take root as I, or give me wings of splendor
Like unto thine!
My king divine!
Take root as I, or give me wings of splendor
Like unto thine!
