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A Minor Poet and other Verse. Levy, Amy, 1861–1889.
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page: 70

II.

There is no Heaven—This is the best ; O hold me closer to your breast ; Let your face lean upon my face, That there no longer shall be space Between our lips, between our eyes. I feel your bosom’s fall and rise. O hold me near and yet more near ; Ah sweet ; I wonder do you know How lone and cold, how sad and drear, Was I a little while ago ; Sick of the stress, the strife, the stir ; But I have found you, Christopher.
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