Where a lagging stream sings lullaby, there blows a lily fair.
The twilight gleam is in her eye, the night is on her hair.
And like a love-sick lannan she, she has my heart enthralled.
Nor life I owe, nor liberty, for love is Lord of all.
Her father's
sails, a running barge, to exclave again the dream.
And on the lonely river marge, she clears his hearth for him.
When she was only fairy,
high, her gentle mother died.
But true love keeps her memory green on the lagging side.
And often when the beetles whine,
hath the leaf to sing.
I steal unto her shielding line, and through the rain peep.
There on the great good singing stone,
she spares the pain.




The friend.

I call upon a good fire, that sings and sad.
Sweet undertone, the songs of hearts desire.
Her welcomed like her love for me.
is from her heart of farb.





her warm kisses felicity that knows no taint of sin
and when i stare my foot to go tis leaving love and light
to hear the wind of longing blow from the dark of night
where lagoon string sings lullaby
there blows a lily fair
the twilight gleam is in her eye
the night is on her hair
and like a lousy glamour she
she has my heart enthralled
no life i own
no life i own

nor liberty
for love is lord of all