From groves of spice, O`er fields of rice, Athwart the lotus-stream, I bring for you, Aglint with dew A little lovely dream. Sweet, shut your eyes, The wild fire-flies Dance through the fairy neem; From the poppy-bole For you I stole A little lovely dream. Dear eyes, good-night, In golden light The stars around you gleam; On you I press With soft caress A little lovely dream.SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
The script ran 0.001 seconds.