THERE'S a voice that soundeth sweetly, When its low tones softly greet me; And the heart-pulse boundeth fleetly, When I hear, Soft and clear, Its low music in my ear.
There's an eye that beameth brightly, And my spirit dreameth nightly Of its twinkling deep and sprightly; And it seems, In my dreams, Shedding on me all its beams.
There's a smile, whose tender beaming, Like the morning sunlight gleaming, Fills my soul with happy dreaming; And its charm, Soft and warm, Gives delicious visions form.
There's a heart, could I but find it, Formed of truth, as heaven designed it, And no other love hath twined it, Then my own, Like a zone, Should be forever round it thrown.
