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Home  »  An American Anthology, 1787–1900  »  277 Song

Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900.

By Frances SargentOsgood

277 Song

YOUR heart is a music-box, dearest!

With exquisite tunes at command,

Of melody sweetest and clearest,

If tried by a delicate hand;

But its workmanship, love, is so fine,

At a single rude touch it would break;

Then, oh! be the magic key mine,

Its fairy-like whispers to wake.

And there ’s one little tune it can play,

That I fancy all others above,—

You learned it of Cupid one day,—

It begins with and ends with “I love!” “I love!”

My heart echoes to it “I love!”