When April bends above me When April tells the thrushes, Above his roof the swallows, O sparrow, little sparrow,
And finds me fast asleep
Dust need not keep the secret
A live heart died to keep.
The meadow-larks will know,
And pipe the three words lightly
To all the winds that blow.
In notes like far-blown rain,
Will tell the little sparrow
Beside his window-pane.
When I am fast asleep,
Then tell my love the secret
That I have died to keep.
September 29, 2008
I Love You
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment