A MIRAGE.
Reading edition
Were I thy bride, Then the whole world beside Were not too wide To hold my wealth of love— Were I thy bride! Upon thy breast My loving head would rest, As on her nest The tender turtle dove— Were I thy bride! This heart of mine Would be one heart with thine, And in that shrine Our happiness would dwell— Were I thy bride! And all day long Our lives should be a song: No grief, no wrong Should make my heart rebel— Were I thy bride! The melancholy flute, The melancholy lute, Were night owl's hoot To my low-whispered coo— Were I thy bride! The skylark's trill Were but discordance shrill To the soft thrill Of wooing as I'd woo— Were I thy bride! The rose's sigh Were as a carrion's cry To lullaby Such as I'd sing to thee, Were I thy bride! A feather's press Were leaden heaviness To my caress. But then, unhappily, I'm not thy bride!