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A Song

A Song image
Parent Issue
Day
17
Month
September
Year
1897
Copyright
Public Domain
OCR Text

Bring rao the juice of the houey frnit, The largo, translucent, amber hued, Rare grapes of southern isles, to suit The luxury that fllls my mood. And bring me only such as grew Where fairest maidens tend the bowers, And only fed by rain and dew Which flrst had bathed a bank oí flowera. They must have hung on spicy trees In airs of far enchanted vales, And all night heard the ecstasies Of noble throated nightingales. So that the virtues whioh belong To flowera may therein taated be, And that which hath been thrilled with song May give a thrill of song to me. For I would wake that string for thee Whieh hath too long in silence hung, And sweeter than all else should be The song which in thy praise is sung.

Article

Subjects
Ann Arbor Argus
Old News