Сэмюэл Лавер (Samuel Lover)

The May-Dew

Come with me, love, I'm seeking
 A spell in young year's flowers;
The magical May-dew is weeping
 Its charm o'er the summer bow'rs;
Its pearls are more precious than those they find
 In jewell'd India's sea;
For the dew-drops, love, might serve to bind
 Thy heart, for ever, to me!
   Oh come with me, love, I'm seeking
      A spell in the young year's flowers;
   The magical May-dew is weeping
      It's charm o'er the summer bowers.

Haste, or the spell will be missing
 We seek in the May-dew now,
For soon the warm sun will be kissing
 The bright drops from the blossom and bough;
And the charm is so tender the May-dew sheds
 O'er the wild flowers' delicate dyes,
That e'en at the touch of the sunbeam, 'tis said,
 The mystical influence flies.
   Oh, come with me, love, I'm seeking
      A spell in the young year's flowers;
   The magical May-dew is weeping
      Its charm o'er the summer bowers.

Поддержать сайт