As is the maiden while her heart pursues
Her evening walk oer fields in silent dews
Ave Maria tis the hour of love
Sighs & pains & tears on beautys breast
Are whispered into blessings from above
Ave Maria tis the hour of rest
For man & woman & the weary beast
That blesses all with sleep & quiet rest
Ave Maria tis the hour of night
Like to an Indian Maiden dressed in white
(Lines 8-17 of "Now evenings rosey streaks...")
LP I 168
No comments:
Post a Comment