|Share page||Visit Us On FB|
SEND ME THAT FLOWER. 173
She did not speak her gratitude,
But, with a tearful eye, Press'd her warm, glowing lips to mine
In grateful fervency.
She laid her hand confidingly
And gently in my own; Her blue eyes spoke thro' glist'ning tears—
How eloquent their tone!
I understood their import deep, Their magic struck my heart!
The gratitude which glows so warm. Disdains the words of art.
0, Father! shall a creature come
With grateful tears to me, And I neglect to offer up
My gratitude to thee ?
SEND MB THAT FLOWER.
Send me that long-promised flower From thy forest home in that western glade : Aye, send me one that has grown in the shade, Where, in musing, thy footsteps have often stray'd, And where in gladness thy children have play'd
At the beautiful twilight hour.