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TO PEPA.

FROM ALFRED DE MUSSET.

NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED

WHEN, once thy mother bids good night,

When the evening shades are there,

And half dressed beneath thy light,

Pepa, thou art bowed in prayer;

At the hour when anxious thought

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With a restless sleep is wed;

Ere thy snowy cap is brought

And th' art nestled in thy bed;

When dull sleep its wings unfurl

O'er thy home and over thee, -

Pepita! my charming girl

Sweet, what can thy visions be?

Who knows? Perhaps the heroine

Of some sad tale of love and sighs;

Whatever hope has e'er foreseen

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