52 WIND-HARP SONGS.

A LITTLE RAMBLING RILL.

O

MAIDEN fair

In hair

And face and form

Ah, how the blushing warm

Blood

Makes flushing flood

Thro all the sweet lip-pasture of her cheek !-

O hear me speak !

Hear me declare

Confession, bare,

Of all my fondness true

For you,

My azure sky s white dove,

My love,

My goddess bright

As light.

Hear me proclaim,

Aflame,

My ardency

For thee.

That little fleck

Of curling hair, behind, upon your neck,

Entangleth me

Make me not free !

O maiden sweet,

Discreet,