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ghizela rowe - r. d. blackmore - to fame lyrics

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right fairy of the morn, with flowers arrayed
whose beauties to thy young pursuer seem
beyond the ecstasy of poet’s dream++
shall i overtake thee, ere thy l+stre fade?

ripe glory of the noon, august, and proud
a vision of high purpose, power, and sk!ll
that melteth into mirage of good+will++
do i o’ertake thee, or embrace a cloud?

gray shadow of the evening, gaunt and bare
at random cast, beyond me or above
and cold as memory in the arms of love++
if i o’ertook thee now, what should i care?

“no morn, or noon, or evе am i,” she said;
“but night++the depth of night bеhind the sun;
by all mankind pursued; but never won
until my shadow falls upon a shade.”



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