And as the evening to the earth,
Came love to me, a boon most rare;
Hushed every sorrow at its birth,
And turned complaining into prayer.
A BUTTERFLY
A butterfly hovered over a flower,
In a bower,
With the joy of life at his lips for an hour.
And as the evening to the earth,
Came love to me, a boon most rare;
Hushed every sorrow at its birth,
And turned complaining into prayer.
A butterfly hovered over a flower,
In a bower,
With the joy of life at his lips for an hour.