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Show DREAMING OF THEE. By Marla S?. Jackson. The breezes are sighing, The moonbeams are throwing A silvery light on the rippling sea; I hear the waves murmur, In music entrancing, I hear them just whisper, I'm dreaming of thee. The night-birds are waking, Calm nature reposing With tremulous, passionate melody; But I heed not the music, Tho' my soul is o'erflowing, The music seems surging, I'm dreaming of thee. Oh, oft when I wander 'Mid scenes of wild grandeur, And strange thoughts of beauty steal over me, I speak to the rocks, And the hoary old mountains, And tell them my secret - I'm dreaming of thee. They will not lisp it, The flowers nor the sunshine, Not the stars that gleam on the ?, They know that I'm waiting And longing to greet thee, They know that I'm dreaming, E'er dreaming of thee. But the brooklets may roll In music untold To the depths of the slumbering sea; And I will not tell thee, Tho' my heart break in keeping, You shall never know That I dream but of thee. |