From The Birmingham Age Herald, February 4, 1914.
The sunset bells had ceased their song;
The sunset fires had gone,
And twilight, falling from the stars,
Fell on us two alone.
Soft, undulating waves of grain
Beneath the mountain’s crest
Lay as a mesh of silken lace
Upon a sobbing breast.
The golden peaks just glorified
Grew somber, sad and sear;
The whippoorwills began their flight,
Yet I still lingered there.
For fairer than the roses wild
And purer than each star
Was she who lingered by my side,
Dear Nellie of Kelmar.
With passion deep my lips were fraught
And breathed my bosom’s cry;
Then softer than the dying day
Her answer was a sigh.
Oh bliss, oh rapture, treasured sweets,
Of love dream void of pain;
I’d give my life, my soul, my all
To live that hour again.
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