56
ZENOBIA.
Be hushed, my lute! I know a tone
More silvery and more dear;
I would not have a sound disturb
The voice within my ear.
Him only on the wide green earth,
Him in the sky above ;
To me the world has but these words,
I love him—how I love !
From the first hour I met his eyes
Another life began ;
Till then, a calm untroubled stream,
My life’s young current ran.
But now ’tis stirred with passionate thought,
With many hopes and fears ;
The first too tremulous for joy,
The last too sweet for tears.
I wait his coming till my eyes,
That watch, too soon are dim ;
I strive to think of other things—-
I only think of him.
I seem to have, before he comes,
So much I want to say ;
I see him, and my gathered words
Melt like a dream away.
ZENOBIA.
Be hushed, my lute! I know a tone
More silvery and more dear;
I would not have a sound disturb
The voice within my ear.
Him only on the wide green earth,
Him in the sky above ;
To me the world has but these words,
I love him—how I love !
From the first hour I met his eyes
Another life began ;
Till then, a calm untroubled stream,
My life’s young current ran.
But now ’tis stirred with passionate thought,
With many hopes and fears ;
The first too tremulous for joy,
The last too sweet for tears.
I wait his coming till my eyes,
That watch, too soon are dim ;
I strive to think of other things—-
I only think of him.
I seem to have, before he comes,
So much I want to say ;
I see him, and my gathered words
Melt like a dream away.