If Souls Go Hand In Hand

Eyes that are true and blue,

And wind-stirred locks of gold,

And a land a-bloom

And a sweet perfume

In a world that ne’er grows old;

And necklacing dimpled arms,

And a love that knows no drouth,

And the perfect bliss of a clinging kiss

On a pouting and red-lipped mouth.

Sweet songs of whippoorwills,

And vales half hid in dark,

And the silent hills,

And the peaceful rills,

And the fire-fly’s moving spark;

And the mockbird’s midnight song

Like a blessing from the South,

And always the charm of the necklaced arms,

And always the kiss on the mouth.

Two souls like censers swung

Where naught may intervenue,

With no mountain chains

And no rolling plains

And no weary miles between;

Through ages, and all the same,

No North, East, West, or South;

Just the hair’s spun gold and the arms to hold;

They eyes and the red-lipped mouth.

If souls go hand in hand,

Through scenes those souls erst knew,

Be it ours to go

In a to-and-fro

Where the skies or life arched blue;

Where the hills were our own hills,

And their green slopes knew no drouth;

Where no thing was old, and where locks were gold,

And Love kissed a red-lipped mouth.

 Lilts O Love Table Of Contents