March 17th, 2017

dreaming, When Rose Wakes, Christopher Golden

Poetry Friday: Last Night by Théophile Julius Henry Marzials

Last night the nightingale waked me,
Last night when all was still;
It sang in the golden moonlight
From out the woodland hill.
I opened the window gently,
And all was dreamy dew-
And oh! the bird, my darling,
Was singing, singing of you!

- first verse of Last Night by Théophile Julius Henry Marzials

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