TO WILLIE.
As flowers turn toward the light.
So turns my thought to thee,
And brighter than the sunlight's gold,
Is thy sweet smile to me.
Though fortune hath not on thee smiled,
Though men may crown with blame,
To me through varying good and ill,
Thou e'er hast been the same.
So turns my thought to thee,
And brighter than the sunlight's gold,
Is thy sweet smile to me.
Though fortune hath not on thee smiled,
Though men may crown with blame,
To me through varying good and ill,
Thou e'er hast been the same.
The cares of Life, the woes of time,
Misfortune's fickle darts,
May fall and wound thee, dear, but I,
Am of thy life a part.
What reck I of the adverse winds,
Of social laws apart,
I close the avenues of strife,
To nestle on thy faithful heart.
Misfortune's fickle darts,
May fall and wound thee, dear, but I,
Am of thy life a part.
What reck I of the adverse winds,
Of social laws apart,
I close the avenues of strife,
To nestle on thy faithful heart.
No length of time, no gloomy space,
Of parted years shall find,
My heart less true, but to thine own,
Its chords shall closer bind.
Of parted years shall find,
My heart less true, but to thine own,
Its chords shall closer bind.
