UNKNOWN.
There’s a star a-light in the gloaming,
A gleam in the skies above;
There’s a flower at rest on her bosom,—
On the heart of her I love.
What says the star of the twilight?
What is the song of the flower?
A cloud has covered the star-beam;
The blossom lived but an hour.
Nay, ’tis the infinite heaven,
The depth beyond, that speak;
’Tis the heart that throbs ’neath the blossom,
Not the lip nor the fair white cheek.
The voice of the heavens is tender,
Its whisper is fond and low;
But the voice of the heart that is throbbing—
Its message I cannot know.