WHITE DOVE OF THE WILD DARK EYES
White Dove of the wild dark eyesFaint silver flutes are callingFrom the night where the star-mists riseAnd fire-flies fallingTremble in starry wise,Is it you they are calling?
White Dove of the beating heartShrill golden reeds are thrillingIn the woods where the shadows start,While moonbeams, fillingWith dreams the floweret’s heartIts dreams are thrilling.
White Dove of the folded wings,Soft purple night is cryingWith the voice of fairy thingsFor you, lest dyingThey miss your flashing wings,Your splendorous flying.
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