My robe is of green, My crown is of stars— The grass is the green And the daisies the stars: O'er lochan and streamlet My breath moveth sweet ... Bonnie blue lochans, Hillwaters fleet.
The song in my heart Is the song of the birds, And the wind in my heart Is the lowing of herds: The light in my eyes, And the breath of my mouth, Are the clouds of spring-skies And the sound of the South. Grass-green from thy mouth The sweet sound of the South!
1 comment:
nom nom indeed.
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