Explore "Song" by Helen Hay Whitney on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The sky is more blue than the eyes of a boy, A riot of roses entangles the year; Ah, come to me, run to me, fill me with joy, Dear, dear, dear.
The air is a passion of perfume and song, The little moon swings up above, look above, I cannot wait longer, I've waited so long, Love, love, love.