Page:Peterson's Magazine 1842, Volume I.pdf/189

160 Second Verse.

Here is bread of the whitest and sweetest, And there is a sip of red

wing is the lightest and fleet

wine ; Though thy

I have

est, 'Twill be fleeter when nerv'd by the vine.

16 written on rose scented paper, with thy wing quill, a soft billet

doux, I have melted the wax in love's

Third Verse.

ta - per, 'Tis the color of true heart's sky blue.

I have fast'ned it under thy

pin - ion, With a

18 blue ribbon round thy soft neck ; So go from me beautiful min - ion While the pure ether shows not a

speck.

Like a cloud in the dim distance fleeting, Like an dim:

way ;

ar - row he hurries a --

Tempo.

And farther and farther re- treat - ing, He is lost in the clear blue of day.