Explore "The Sleeping Heart" by Marie Van Vorst on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
My heart is in the hawthorn tree. / I left it in the lovely house, / Hidden among the blooming boughs. / And every little crimson rose, / That blushes, reddens, pales or glows, / Shall give its secret up to thee! / My heart is in the hawthorn tree.
My heart is in the hawthorn tree! / It wears a fragile, rose-red dress: / A robe of spring-time loveliness. / It has forgot its songs to sing, / And sleepeth like a tired thing, -- / To dream new songs, to sing to thee. -- / My heart is in the hawthorn-tree.