Ah, lupine, with silvery leaves
And blossoms blue as the skies,
I know a maid like thee,
And blue, too, are her eyes.
Gray as a nun's her dress ;
Her mien, cannot mere words express.
Fair lupine, the dew-drop shines
A gem night gives to thee ;
So pure her radiant soul
Within her breast must be.
Like thee, she dwells alone ;
As in thyself in her are known.
Ah, lupine, I pluck thy bloom,
But how her grace may I win?
So pure, so fair, is she
My suit may not begin
Unless I send thy flower
To prove her,
And move her,
Me with her priceless love to dower !
Submitted by Emily Ezust [Administrator]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)
Text added to the website: 2009-06-17.
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:03:15
Line count: 24
Word count: 122
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