。，I am no saint, and no bride can I be:
Red rose and white in the garden;。，
。，And the bird sings over the roses.
Comes up a shrouded head:。，Life thoroughly lived is a fact in the brain,
The mustering storm betrayed:。，And show us of some rigid harridan
Can she be dead, or rooted in pain?。，But he can spy that little twist of brain
He did but waken a little smile:。，The uproar of an outraged deep.
。，It's a roundabout way, with respect let me add,
And Fancy on that lake to seek lost treasures sailed.。，
Such a she who'll match with me?。，But dumb, because that overmastering spell
。，The illimitable eagerness of hue
She can lead us, only she,。，
When girls learn the meaning of ribands and smiles!。，And I turned as a hissing leaf spits from the flame,
。，That gave its gold with open hand,
The old grey mother she dressed the bier:。，Not from the standers-by:
，She looked so white, she looked so sweet:。，As we lie, O my lover! in this rich gloom,