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Show 00 WHAT M L.OVER SAID. By tho merest chunce, In the twilight twi-light gloom, In the orchard path he met mo; In the all, wet grass, with its faint perfume, And I tried to pass, but he made no room, Oh, I tried, but he would not let me So I stood and blushed till tho .gragss grow red. With my faco bent down above it, While he took my hand as he whis. pering said (How the clover lifted each pink, sweet head, To listen to all that my loved said. Oh, the clover In bloom, I love it1) In the high, wet grass the path to hide, And tho low wet leaves hung over; But I copld not pass upon either side, For I found myself, when I vainly tried, In tho arms of my steadfast lover Ami he held mo there and ho raised my head, While'he closed the path before mo. And ho looked down Into my eyos and said (How the leaves bent down from the boughs o'er head, To listen to all that my lover said. Oh, tho leaves hanging lowly o'er me!) Had he moved aside but a little way I could surely thon have passed him. And he know I never could wish to stay, And would not have heard what he had to say, Could I only aside have cast him It was almost dark, and the moments sped, And the soarching night wind found us, But ho drew me nearer and softly said (How the pure, sweet wind grew still, instead, To listen to all that my lover said Oh, tho whispering wind around us!) I am sure he knew when he held me fast. That 1 must be all unwilling; For I tried to go, and I would have passed, As the night was come with its dew, at last, And the sky with its starts was filling. But ho clasped 'me close when I would have fled. And he made mo hear his storj'i And his soul came out from his lips and said (How the stars crept out where tho white moon led, To listen to all that my lover said. Oh, the moon and the stars in glory! ) , I know (hat the grass and the leaves will not tell. And T am sure that the wind, precious pre-cious rover, Will carry my secret to safetv and well That no being shall ever discover One word of the many that rapidlv fell ' From tho soul-speaking lips of my lover; And tho moon and the stars that looked over Shall never reveal what a fairy-like spell They wove round about us that night in the dell, In the path through the dew-laden clover, Nor echo the whispers that made my heart swell As thoy fell from the lips of my lovor. Homor Greene rut |