Page:Famous Single Poems (1924).djvu/307

 One word of the many that rapidly fell
 * From the soul-speaking lips of my lover;
 * And the moon and the stars that looked over

Shall never reveal what a fairy-like spell They wove round about us that night in the dell,
 * In the path through the dew-laden clover,

Nor echo the whispers that made my heart swell
 * As they fell from the lips of my lover.

Homer Greene.