Chapter 101
My Lady Singing by Aubrey De Vere, recorded for LibriVox.org. She whom this heart must ever hold most dear, This heart, in happy bondage held so long, Began to sing. At first a gentle fear rosied her countenance,
For she's young, and he who loves her most of all was near. But when at last her voice grew full and strong Oh, from their ambush sweet How rich and clear bubbled the notes abroad A rapturous throng
Her little hands were sometimes flung apart And sometimes, palm to palm together pressed Whilst wave-like blushes, rising from her breast Kept time with that aerial melody As muses to the sight
I, standing nigh, received the falling fountain in my heart. End of poem. Recorded by Henry K. Noble in Washington, D.C., July 28, 2022. This recording is in the public domain.
