LARKSPUR
OUT in the garden as you played,A breeze moved to and froAcross my bed of larkspurIn grave adagio.The wind with touch most delicate,Went up and down the scale—Wine-dark, frail amethyst, and blue,Blue as Our Lady’s veil.You played softly to yourself,Your brown hands on the keys;And God with larkspur,You with sound, were making harmonies.
OUT in the garden as you played,A breeze moved to and froAcross my bed of larkspurIn grave adagio.The wind with touch most delicate,Went up and down the scale—Wine-dark, frail amethyst, and blue,Blue as Our Lady’s veil.You played softly to yourself,Your brown hands on the keys;And God with larkspur,You with sound, were making harmonies.
OUT in the garden as you played,A breeze moved to and froAcross my bed of larkspurIn grave adagio.
The wind with touch most delicate,Went up and down the scale—Wine-dark, frail amethyst, and blue,Blue as Our Lady’s veil.
You played softly to yourself,Your brown hands on the keys;And God with larkspur,You with sound, were making harmonies.