TO ———
FELL in my hands, a pearl of price,
A clear white sheet of Indian rice,
Thy letter, Love!
The Characters thy hand has made,
Than ebon in pure Ivory laid,
Are better, Love!
Dear Message, coming from the South,
Could I receive, by word of mouth,
'Twere better, Love!
I press it to my lips, my breast,
Ah! there shall be its resting-place,
Thy letter, Love!
A clear white sheet of Indian rice,
Thy letter, Love!
The Characters thy hand has made,
Than ebon in pure Ivory laid,
Are better, Love!
Dear Message, coming from the South,
Could I receive, by word of mouth,
'Twere better, Love!
I press it to my lips, my breast,
Ah! there shall be its resting-place,
Thy letter, Love!
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