I have no word to tell you
The beauty of her face;
From her, a wedding garment
Would win a grace.
And as the glow of moonrise
Will make the east divine,
Doth Soul, the radiant dweller,
Her face outshine.
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Josephine Preston Peabody · Vanguardias / s. XX
inglés
I have no word to tell you
The beauty of her face;
From her, a wedding garment
Would win a grace.
And as the glow of moonrise
Will make the east divine,
Doth Soul, the radiant dweller,
Her face outshine.
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