"In Your Arms."
Rocked to rest on that heart of thine. My thoughts glide off into dreams divine ; Rut, through them all, thy soft face gleams, The sun of that beautiful bay of dreams. Grief is no king in that fair domain. Where we find what in life we sought—in vain. The wind bears comfort and balm oa its wings, The birds sing only of glorious things E’en under the charm of that fairy grace I can feel your kiss upon my face ; And upon my cheek your warming breath— Can a dream as perfect follow Death ? No! Heaven itself could no sweeter be Than this single moment—to you and me. Rocked into sleep on that heart of thine, Gliding away into dreams divine. Alan Meycick. Dunedin, September 5.
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"In Your Arms.", Evening Star, Issue 8012, 14 September 1889, Supplement
"In Your Arms." Evening Star, Issue 8012, 14 September 1889, Supplement
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