  Love is the salt sea's savour, Love is the palm-tree's sheen, Love is the sky of evening. That softly sets between. Love is the ocean's purple, Love is the mountain's crest, Love is the golden Eagle That hither builds his nest. The wind that lists at morning. The first song of the bird, The leaves that stir so lightly Before a limb has stirred: These are my love's harbingers By gathering music drawn. Oh! wake my love and own them, Thou life voice of the Dawn. |
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