Classic Poem

There sings a Fairy hidden in the grove;
His voice is full of such divine desire
That sure! he sets my very soul afire —
And there's a Spirit — hark! I hear him move
Below among the roses, and above
Among the tree-tops — look! the lily shakes,
She dances to the music that he makes —
Oh sure he comes, the Spirit that I love.

Wait, wait, oh wait, the Fairy softly sighed,
And hush, hush, hush the Spirit murmured,
And then I saw the Rose blush crimson red —
" Ah! be not angry, lovely Rose," I said,
" For One is coming worthy of the three,
The nightingale, the morning wind, and thee."