God took great roses rare and pale,
And formed your body fair and frail;
God took white violets cool and sweet,
And fashioned your small hands and feet;
God took bright dust of gold and spun
Your soft hair, coloured like the sun;
God made your clear and mystic eyes,
As blue as wild blue butterflies!
And formed your body fair and frail;
God took white violets cool and sweet,
And fashioned your small hands and feet;
God took bright dust of gold and spun
Your soft hair, coloured like the sun;
God made your clear and mystic eyes,
As blue as wild blue butterflies!
Lady! when as a child you played,
I think some angel all the while
With folded wings beside you stayed;
You still remember her strange smile . . .
And when you say the simplest words,
The echo of her voice we hear . . .
I think some angel all the while
With folded wings beside you stayed;
You still remember her strange smile . . .
And when you say the simplest words,
The echo of her voice we hear . . .
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