Thistle-down

Fly, thistle-down, fly

From my lips to the lips that I love!

Fly through the morning light,

Flee through the shadowy night,

Over the sea and the land,

Quick as the lark

Through twilight and dark,

Through lightning and thunder;

Till no longer asunder

We stand;

For thy touch like the lips of her lover

Moves her being to mine—

We are one in a swoon divine!

Fly, thistle-down, fly

From my lips to the lips that I love!