  Sing too, little bird, what my heart sings to-day. Dost thou know?— I'll speak low— "Oh, I do love him so." Hold safe, waving grass, in thy rhythmical flow, What I say, Till the day When as sweet new-mown hay Thou can'st bear it to him in the fragrance loved best. Oh, love dear, How I wish thou wert here! But pause, little cloud, thou canst carry it now, I am sure, Sweet and pure, Though the winds do allure; For thou art on the way to the west where he is. But dost know?— Tell him low, "That I do love him so, Oh! I do love him so." |
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