(From an old Italian Legend)
True lovers' words are deathless things;
Eros, the little god, and wise,
Catches them all,--gives to them wings,
And turns them into fireflies!
Words that are sweet as a caress,
And wild, bright words no will can tame;
Soft words of haunting tenderness,--
Words that are like a blue-white flame.
The magic word, the jewelled word,
The word that hides a thousand fears,--
These all the perfumed winds have heard,
Through all the immemorial years!
Not one is lost;--by old sea walls,
And over beds of mignonette,
And through lost lanes,--when darkness falls,
In loveliness they sparkle yet.
* * * * *
Then down the velvet sea of night,
Like little lighted ships asail,
They pass away, and out of sight,--
Companioned by the nightingale.