SONGS OF LA MOUCHE.
The New Spring.
A March wind whirls and eddies
In gusts of rain and sleet,
I stand at my lonely window
And gaze on the empty street.
In gusts of rain and sleet,
I stand at my lonely window
And gaze on the empty street.
In a lull of the boisterous whirlwind
Floats upward from afar
A thin metallic tinkle,
The twang of a guitar.
Floats upward from afar
A thin metallic tinkle,
The twang of a guitar.
The dreamy warmth of girlhood
Comes back to me again,
And my fingers are idly beating
Time on the window-pane.
Comes back to me again,
And my fingers are idly beating
Time on the window-pane.
Paris, 1855.
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