Page:The Poetical Works of William Motherwell, 1849.djvu/279



love impart, By nicest art, To speechless rocks a tongue,— Their theme would be, Beloved, of thee,— Thy beauty, all their song.

And, clerklike, then, With sweet amen, Would echo from each hollow Reply all day; While gentle fay, With merry whoop, would follow.

Had roses sense, On no pretence Would they their buds unroll; For, could they speak. 'Twas from thy cheek Their dantiest blush they stole.

Had lilies eyes, With glad surprise