| Song: The Promise... Robert Graves... |
|
While you were promised to me But still were not yet given, There was this to be said: Though wishes might be wishes, A promise was a promise- Like the shadow of a cedar, Or the moon overhead, Or the firmness of your fingers, Or the print of your kisses, Or your lightness of tread, With not a doubt between us Once bats began their circling Among the palms and cedars And it was time for bed. |
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