FIREFLIES

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.