I perceive a thought wriggling away in the dust,。，And twist and roll the Anakim;
Red rose and white in the garden;。，O Margaret! my bride and saint!
But I, who love old hymning night,。，Red rose and white in the garden;
And, ho, for a night of Pagan glee!。，Why the deuce does he tell us it half broke his heart?
And the bird sings over the roses.。，And the bird sings over the roses.
O forgive her:- she was but as dead lilies are:。，I on thine, thus! no more shall that jewelled Head jar
。，He fell at her feet with love and awe:
Of humble acceptance: for, question I must!。，Wherein the blood of Eden bloomed again:
Ascend, tho' virgin to my life they passed.。，Bacchante Mother! stern to those
Not from the dead man;。，And all its music is for me!
Hark to her laughter! who laughs like this,。，
The bridegroom he hung at midnight by the bier:。，His heart!--where's the leg of the poor little maid!
Yet sinner ne'er suffer'd like that little lass.。，
Reverenced the truths she teaches,。，
Not from the standers-by:。，Stop a moment. I seize an idea from the pit.
He for his happy hunting-fields。，And wiser when she wishes;
How I shuddered--I knew not that I was a slave,。，And is our only visible friend.
，In the circles of pine, on the moss-floor soft.。，O Margaret, say you are not of the dead!