To you I sing, whom towns immure, And you, O Sad, who still endure But most to you with eyelids pure, To you, with bird-like glances bright, Half-paused to speak, half-poised in flight ;— O English Girl, divine, demure, To YOU I sing! |
To you I sing, whom towns immure, And you, O Sad, who still endure But most to you with eyelids pure, To you, with bird-like glances bright, Half-paused to speak, half-poised in flight ;— O English Girl, divine, demure, To YOU I sing! |