Page:Poems Welby.djvu/136

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128
Hark! how the night-winds pass,
Mournfully sighing,
Through the down-trailing grass—
Where art thou flying?

Where the young willow-boughs
Greenly are waving,
Where the blue streamlet flows
Sunny banks laving,
There sit thy fairy few,
Their glances veiling
'Neath tears that fall like dew,
Thy loss bewailing.

I've oped my azure bell
Wide to receive thee,
Where if thou 'lt ever dwell
None may deceive thee;
I'll breathe my faint perfume
On thy lip only—
Love thee through joy and gloom,
Thou fair and lonely.