OUR STARLIT HOUR.
My darling, do you remember still A beautiful summer night,When the roses nodded to the breeze,And the bluebirds slept in the dear old trees, And the stars were grandly bright?
The rising winds about our feet The rose leaves gently tossed;The words you whispered—I hear them stillLike the murmuring sound of a distant rill Whose waves my feet have crossed.
The pale sweet blooms of jessamine swung Like waxen censers there,And the blue-eyed violets woke from sleepIn softer fragrance still to steep The stirring summer air.
Oh, life was sweet in that holy hour; But only the angels knew
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