Thy spirit visits me like dew


Thy spirit visits me like dew
That glistens on the flowers
Falling in the morning blue
And in the evening hours
The wild flowers have a feeling
O'er my calm senses stealing
And love's soft dreams revealing
Seem wispering from the bowers


The foxgloves freckled bells
That blossom by the wood
And in the forrest dells
In the midst of solitude
There I hear my lover call
Where the whitethorn forms a wall
And the foxglove blossoms tall
In the tears of eve bedewed


Spirit thou of every place
Where loves memories are left
Places green as years of grace
Where hope lives of love bereft
My love lives in these green places
Where woodbine the white thorn embraces
Far from the crowd of worldly faces
Here loves spirit still is left.
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