Alice (by Paul Laurence Dunbar)

Paul Laurence Dunbar, 1872-1906
Alice
by Paul Laurence Dunbar
[from Lyrics of Lowly Life, 1896]
Know you, winds that blow your course Roses waving fair and sweet Lily holding crystal dew
Down the verdant valleys,
That somewhere you must, perforce,
Kiss the brow of Alice?
When her gentle face you find,
Kiss it softly, naughty wind.
Thro' the garden alleys,
Grow into a glory meet
For the eye of Alice;
Let the wind your offering bear
Of sweet perfume, faint and rare.
In your pure white chalice,
Nature kind hath fashioned you
Like the soul of Alice;
It of purest white is wrought,
Filled with gems of crystal thought.





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