Page:Jewels of Romance.pdf/48



The lightest touch of your fingers Makes wild fancies leap from within; The ardor of passion lingers From each tone of your violin.

Just as the leaves from maple trees Are blown gently down in the Fall, Just so glides each cadence with ease From sorrow to joy at your call.

In my heart I envy each tone That sings from the strands of your bow, Because in your soul it has known Those secrets my heart yearns to know.