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Samuel Taylor Coleridge - Genevieve
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Maid of my love! sweet Genevieve!
In beauty`s light you glide along; 
Your eye is like the star of eve,
And sweet your voice, as seraph`s song.
Yet not your heavenly beauty gives
This heart with passion soft to glow:
Within your soul a voice there lives!
It bids you hear the tale of woe.
When sinking low the suff`rer wan
Beholds no hand outstretched to save,
Fair, as the bosom of the swan
That rises graceful o`er the wave,
I`ve seen your breast with pity heave
And therefore love I you, sweet Genevieve!
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