One knee is empty, one shoulder bare;
My heart grows cold with longing to share
His little thoughts, and his hands to hold;
My arms are aching his form to fold.
My heart grows cold with longing to share
His little thoughts, and his hands to hold;
My arms are aching his form to fold.
Did you, I wonder, love two at once?
Then you can never tell how many months
Can pass o'er one's head, bending low,
Can send a lost child sprinkling the snow,
And tracing finger marks all o'er your face.
I have another, but none for his place.
Then you can never tell how many months
Can pass o'er one's head, bending low,
Can send a lost child sprinkling the snow,
And tracing finger marks all o'er your face.
I have another, but none for his place.
[56]
