When Fancy Wanders
When the big hibiscus
blossoms go to sleep,
And the four-o’ clocks
are nodding in the dew,
Sweet memories
thronging swiftly o’er the chords of
fancy sweep,
And I’m walking in the
moonlight, dear, with you.
When the drowsy
morning-glories are in bed,
And the night-bird’s
whistle croons across the lea,
When the heat and all
the worry of the dusty day have
fled,
Then, your little
hands outstretched, you come to me.
In the glory of the
gloaming all alone,
Hand in hand, our
shadows, stretching far away,
In a world by love
created, just a world that’s all our
own,
Slow we wander where
sweet blossoms nod and sway.
Then I know no words
of chiding shall be mine;
Then my heart to your
sweet heart may tell its tale,
When my eyes look into
your eyes and I see them glint
and shine
Till the very stars in
heaven fade and pale.
And I lead you to a
valley of content,
Where the heartsease
nods and ripples down the slopes,
And we wander off
together where life’s softest perfumes
blent
Whisper sweet a world
of promise to my hopes.
And the world just
gets so small, so awful small,
That only we are in
it, just we two!
And the moonflower
sways in beauty where the shafts of
moonlight fall,
And where I humbly
kneel, sweetheart, to you.
But the real world is
big—so vast and wide—
And you’re so far away
that hope grows weak!
Oh, I’d give my hopes
of glory just to have you by my
side,
Just to clasp your
little hands, and hear you speak.
But when four-o’
clocks are nodding to the night,
And the big hibiscus
cease to shine,
Then the glory of your
coming fills my sad heart with
delight,
For whenever fancy
wanders you are mine