To Hear Her Sing

To see her perfect head thrown back, Whilo from her lipn (the daintiest ever ktssed) There rípples forth a inelody so free, Bo joyous and so glad, the happy birda Are moved to wonder on the maple tree fust at the window, where sho sits and sings, Herself the sweotest among all sweet thingsl The little psyche knot of soldon hair- I wonder oft if angels wears thoira so - The aoulful eyes uplifted- I am sure Not anj?el, wjman, St. Cccilia's self Could look more fair or moro divinely pure! The bvuich of lilies on her girlish breast Show sonrcely white against her bosom'8 snow - But with an odorous sigh thoy closer cling. Glad to bc near hor. clod to hear her sincri