Third day, third month festival, and the air fresh with spring;beside Serpentine Lake in Chang'an, many lovely women stroll
Their appearance is elegant, their thoughts lofty and refined,their complexions delicate, figures in perfect proportio...
E'en as a lovely flower,
So fair, so pure thou art;
I gaze on thee, and sadness Comes stealing o'er my heart
My hands I fain had folded Upon thy soft brown hair,
Oh, lovely Mary Donnelly, my joy, my only best If fifty girls were round you,
I’d hardly see the rest;
Be what it may the time o’ day, the place be where it
Sweet looks o’ Mary Donnelly, they bloom before me still
A face at the end of the dayA cradle in day’s dead leavesA bouquet of naked
Every ray of sun
Every fount of founts in the depths of the
Every mirror of mirrors brokenA face in the scales of silenceA pebble among other
Fair and lovely maid, look from the shore,
See thy Leander striving in these waves,
Poor soul forespent, whose force can do no more:
Now send forth hopes, for now calm pity saves