| OCR Text |
Show MISUNDERSTOOD <br><br> "What are you doing here, Norah, my dear, Out in the dark and the mist?" "Well, if you insist, I am looking to find Some dark brown curls that I missed." <br><br> "But your hands are quite wet, Norah, my pet. Why are you walking so slow?" "Well, if you must know, I am waiting to hear A voice that is tender and low." <br><br> "For me you have no word, Norah, my bird. Why do you stop to rest?" "Now stand I confessed, I am watching to see The eyes that I love the best." <br><br> "For you I would have died, Norah, my pride, And now you my love despise." Then softly, she cries, "But I have found them all, T'was your hair, your voice, your eyes." <br><br> Miriam Kenyon. |