THANK thee, dear, for words that fleet, For all caresses simply sweet For blushes mutely understood, Oh how in words to tell the rest? Oh give to God the love again Oh bless Him, for He sent the twain Together on the earth. FREDERICK MYERS. MY NEIGHBOUR. DOVE thou thy Neighbour," we are told, My lovely Neighbour; oft we meet I know the music of her feet. She little thinks how, on a day, Or how the rustle of her dress Wee woman, with her smiling mien, She passes me, unconscious Queen! Her face most innocently good, Her form a nest of Womanhood! Like Raleigh-for her dainty tread, Ah, Neighbour, you will never know I see you 'mid your flowers at morn, If so, 'twere sweet to lean one's breast I hear you sing! And thro' me Spring You know not, dear, how dear you be ; Nothing, and yet a world to me. So near, too! you could hear me sigh, GERALD MASSEY. BLANCHE. @ERE I a breath of summer air, Were I a stream, with low soft song, In bliss to murmur at thy feet. Were I a bird with mellow throat, I would forsake the pleasant grove, And tune for thee the softest note That music dedicates to love. For thee my daily wishes burn; |