To
Mine is a wayward lay;
And, if its eg rhymes I try t,
Proveth a truant thing,
Whenso some names I love, send it away!
For then, eyes swimming oer,
And clasped hands, and smiles in fondness meant,
Are much more eloquent --
So it had fain begone, and speak no more!
Yet shall it e again,
Ah, friend belovd! if so thy wishes be,
And, with wild melody,
I will, upon thine ear, ce my strain --
ce my simple line,
Unfashiond by the ing hand of Art,
But ing from my heart,
To tell the message of its love to thine!
As o shells, when taken
From Os bed, will faithfully repeat
Her a music sweet --
Evn so these words, true to my heart, shall waken!
Oh! while our bark is seen,
Our little bark of kindly, social love,
Down lifes clear stream to move
Toward the summer shores, where all is green --
So long thy name shall bring,
Echoes of joy unto the grateful gales,
And thousand teales,
To freshen the fos that round thee g!
Hast thou not lookd upon
The flowerets of the field in lowly dress?
Blame not my simpleness --
Think only of my love! -- my song is gone.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning