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Poems by Elizabeth Stoddard
page 35 of 92 (38%)
The white moths flutter about the lamp,
Enamoured with light;
And a thousand creatures softly sing
A song to the night!

But I am alone, and how can I sing
Praises to thee?
Come, Night! unveil the beautiful soul
That waiteth for me.




"FAN ME WITH THESE LILIES FAIR."


Fan me with these lilies fair,
Twine their stems around your arm:
Put your feet upon these roses,
Then you'll please me to a charm.

Charm me with your violet eyes,
Kneel, and with your sweet lips meet
The flaming buds of mine, athirst
In the roses at your feet!

"Leave the lilies on the lake,
Do not break its pale repose:
Tear your heart with cruel thorns,
Such as grow beneath the rose.
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