II.
By Andrew Lang
I send my love letters
By larks on the wing;
My love sends me letters
When nightingales sing.
Without reading or writing,
Their burden we know:
They only say, “Love me,
Who love you so.”
By Andrew Lang
I send my love letters
By larks on the wing;
My love sends me letters
When nightingales sing.
Without reading or writing,
Their burden we know:
They only say, “Love me,
Who love you so.”