It echoed o’er the ground;
And never, since that simple toy,
Such music have I found.
I’ve seen blue eyes and tasted wines—
With manly toys been blest,
But backward memory still inclines
To love that whistle best.
The Harpy Eagle.
It echoed o’er the ground;
And never, since that simple toy,
Such music have I found.
I’ve seen blue eyes and tasted wines—
With manly toys been blest,
But backward memory still inclines
To love that whistle best.
The Harpy Eagle.