If 'twere not sin
To rank you in
The race of us poor mortals;
Thinking you might,
By some fair sprite,
Escaped from heaven's own portals.
But as I now
Gaze on that brow
So fondly and so madly,
I am afraid,
If 'twere not sin
To rank you in
The race of us poor mortals;
Thinking you might,
By some fair sprite,
Escaped from heaven's own portals.
But as I now
Gaze on that brow
So fondly and so madly,
I am afraid,