Warm whisp'ring through the slender olive leaves Came to me a gentle sound, Whisepring of a secret found In the clear sunshine 'mid the golden sheaves: Said it was sleeping for me in the morn, Called it gladness, called it joy, Drew me on -- "Come hither, boy" -- To where the blue wings rested on the corn. I thought the gentle sound had whispered true, -- Thought the little heaven mine, Leaned to clutch the thing divine, And saw the blue wings melt within the blue!
About the headline (FAQ)
- by Mary Ann Evans (1819 - 1880), as George Eliot, no title, appears in The Spanish Gypsy, first published 1868 [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)
- by Charles Villiers Stanford, Sir (1852 - 1924), "Blue wings", op. 1 no. 1, from Eight songs from "The Spanish Gypsy", no. 1. [text verified 1 time]
Researcher for this text: Ted Perry
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 12
Word count: 84