The Light of spring On the emerald earth, A man, a maid, And a mood of mirth, A foolish jest, That a smile amends— It took no more To make us friends. An evening breeze, The year in bloom, Lips quickly met In the garden’s gloom; The trees about us, The stars above— It took no more To teach us love. Frost in the air— The air like wine— Go you your way, And I ’ll go mine. Lightly we part Who lightly met— What more is needed, When both forget?
Dear, if you love me, hold me most your friend, Chosen from out the many who would bear Your gladness gladly—heavily your care; Who best can sympathize, best comprehend, Where others fail; who, breathless to the end, Follows your tale of joy or of despair. Hold me your counsellor, because I dare...
The Light of spring On the emerald earth, A man, a maid, And a mood of mirth, A foolish jest, That a smile amends— It took no more To make us friends. An evening breeze, The year in bloom, Lips quickly met In the garden’s gloom; The trees about us, The stars above— It took no more...
