Page:The Golden Violet.pdf/78

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For love is like the breathing wind, That everywhere may entrance find. I saw thee, sure the fairest one The morning light e'er look'd upon; No wonder that my heart was moved, 'T were marvel if I had not loved. Long, long held by a spell too dear, Thy smile has kept thy loiterer here. Almost it seem'd enough for me Of Heaven to only gaze on thee. But love lights high and gallant thought, A rich prize must be dearly bought. Unworthy votary at thy shrine, I scorn my falchion's idle shine; To-morrow I will wend away To dim it in the battle fray.