Is thy name Mary, maiden fair? Such should, methinks, its music be; The sweetest name that mortals bear Were best befitting thee; And she to whom it once was given, Was half of earth and half of heaven. I hear thy voice, I see thy smile, I look upon thy folded hair; Ah! while we dream not they beguile, Our hearts are in the snare; And she who chains a wild bird's wing Must start not if her captive sing. So, lady, take the leaf that falls, To all but thee unseen, unknown; When evening shades thy silent walls, Then read it all alone; In stillness read, in darkness seal, Forget, despise, but not reveal! |