Love Song--Heine

A poem by Eugene Field

Many a beauteous flower doth spring
From the tears that flood my eyes,
And the nightingale doth sing
In the burthen of my sighs.

If, O child, thou lovest me,
Take these flowerets fair and frail,
And my soul shall waft to thee
Love songs of the nightingale.

Reader Comments

Tell us what you think of 'Love Song--Heine' by Eugene Field

comments powered by Disqus