The sea wind blows her shining chestnut hair
That flows as from a hidden mountain spring –
Yet, as the skylark rising on the wing,
Flies heavenward up, as in homage rare.
I follow, with my eyes, this lady fair
Who walks along the beach and gently sings,
With sweet tones lightly carried on the wind.
But of my presence she is sadly unaware.
This heavenly vision glides before my eyes
Then, as a sunbeam, plays its devilish tricks,
She seems to vanish without any trace.
Is my lady but an angel in disguise?
I search the empty beach with eyes transfixed
Never more to see her beauteous face.
Copyright 2007
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