Echoes : three songs of parting

The sweetest flower that blows
I give you as we part:
For you it is a rose,
For me it is my heart.

The fragrance it exhales,
Ah! if you only knew,
Which but in dying fails,
it is my love for you.

The sweetest flower that grows
I give you as we part:
You think it but a rose,
Ah, me! it is my heart.

Chiming a dream by the way
With ocean's rapture and roar,
I met a maiden to-day
Walking alone on the shore:
Walking in maiden wise,
Modest and kind and fair,
The freshness of spring in her eyes
And the fulness of spring in her hair.

Cloud-shadow and scudding sun-burst
Were swift on the floor of the sea,
And a mad wind was romping its worst,
But what was their magic to me?
Or the charm of the midsummer skies?
I only saw she was there,
A dream of the sea in her eyes
And the kiss of the sea in her hair.

I watched her vanish in space;
She came where I walked no more;
But something had passed of her grace
To the spell of the wave and the shore;
And now, as the glad stars rise,
She comes to me, rosy and rare,
The delight of the wind in her eyes
And the hand of the wind in her hair.

Ah, sweet, sad day, whose star is set
 . . . . . . . . . .

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