Page:Poems Welby.djvu/123

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115
And I'm very sure a gentle charm
That bright thing round me threw,
For an angel form, in her bosom warm,
Enfolded the drop of dew.

But I slept not long in yon starry bower,
In the bosom of my love,
For, in a shower, to this primrose flower,
She sent me from above;
And soon its moonlight leaves will close,
But they hide me not from view,
For the wind, that flows o'er the young primrose,
Will kiss off the drop of dew.