With a Book of Fairy Tales
O! the white rose of friendship 'twixt us twain
Spreading out scentful; O! the frail, fresh leaves
Of fervid youth, that fights and fears and grieves
And laughs and loves and hopes through all its pain!
Spreading out scentful; O! the frail, fresh leaves
Of fervid youth, that fights and fears and grieves
And laughs and loves and hopes through all its pain!
O! friend I am but poor for all my praise
And love of you, 'tis but a book I bring,
About that Land, where our dreams, wing to wing,
Drift seeking shelter from earth's sordid days.
And love of you, 'tis but a book I bring,
About that Land, where our dreams, wing to wing,
Drift seeking shelter from earth's sordid days.
O! friend whose soul is swift to understand
If life is difficult and cold and sad—
Some are together still . . . and some are glad
And . . . to these few, God gives His fairy-land!
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If life is difficult and cold and sad—
Some are together still . . . and some are glad
And . . . to these few, God gives His fairy-land!
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