No lark nor bell can please the ear
As words well smoothed and artful
Tis wispy night of moonlight clouds
Drift softly through the sky
As words well smoothed and artful
Tis wispy night of moonlight clouds
Drift softly through the sky
A voice in whisper calls the name
Like flower silk on cheek
The ear awakened from repose
Beckons for some more
And till the clouds and moon go by
And words are put away
The lark and bell hold short their song
Before we hear the name
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