Sylvia May

" Heart of mine, so longing for rest,
Better to build thy love-lined Nest
On a storm-swung bough than a Woman's breast.

But this heart of mine still sayeth me, " Nay; "
Shows me the picture of Sylvia May;
Wilful hearts must have their way!

" Heart of mine, far wiser 'tivould be
To build thy Nest on a wave of the sea,
Tossed and troubled perpetually."

But this heart of mine still sayeth me, " Nay;"
And whispers the name of Sylvia May:
Foolish hearts will have their way!

" Never was love I think like mine;
Never was woman so nearly divine;
Never coidd lives more perfectly twine."

And this heart of mine it murmureth, " Yea; "
Wilful hearts must have their way —
When will you marry me, Sylvia May?