GAYLY in through the casement
Peeps the dawn;
Gayly the bird in the coppice
Greets the morn;
Love starts from its troubled slumber, -
Wakes and sighs.
Calmly the moon is shining,
The world at rest;
The bird is quietly sleeping
On her nest;
Love turns on its feverish pillow
With open eyes.
J. B.
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