Fly away! thou heavenly one! -- I do hail thee on thy flight! Sorrow? thou hath tasted none -- Perfect joy is yourn by right. Fly away! and bear our love To thy kith and kin above!
I can tetch thy finger-tips Ca'mly, and bresh back the hair From thy forr'ed with my lips, And not leave a teardrop thare. -- Weep fer _Tomps and Ruth_ -- and _me_ -- But I can not weep fer _thee_.
End of title
Sign in to unlock this title
Sign in to continue reading, it's free! As an unregistered user you can only read a little bit.
