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the fan.
But Kate,—the darling of my soul,
My bright, yet bashful flower,
In whose dear heart some new, pure leaf,
Seems to unfold each hour,—
My bright, yet bashful flower,
In whose dear heart some new, pure leaf,
Seems to unfold each hour,—
Kate turn'd her shy, sweet looks from mine,
Lest I her blush should see,
And said—so only Love could hear—
"Write from your heart to me!"
Lest I her blush should see,
And said—so only Love could hear—
"Write from your heart to me!"
THE FAN.
a lover's fantasy.
Dainty spirit, that dost lie
Couch'd within the zephyr's sigh,
Murmur in mine earnest ear
Music of the starry sphere!
Softest melody divine
Lend unto each lyric line,
Couch'd within the zephyr's sigh,
Murmur in mine earnest ear
Music of the starry sphere!
Softest melody divine
Lend unto each lyric line,
