The Message.
My Marjorie doth hold in her white hands A spray of lilies plucked below the brook Where the old ruin of a chapel stands - A ruin tenanted by many a nook, And all the grayness of it hid from sight By gracious draping of the ivy green. Sweet lilies, 'tis your glorious fate to-night To lie upon her breast, to send between Her silken bodice and the heart beneath The fragrance given you by sun and shower. Speak subtly with your warm, sweet-scented breath Till, 'mid the dance and music of the hour, She turn you love-filled eyes and glowing face, With: "Ah, ye grew in that old trysting place!"
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"My Marjorie doth hold in her white hands..."
This evocative piece by Jean Blewett, titled "The Message.", represents a masterful exploration of classic. The lines capture a profound emotional resonance... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...