Nora: A Serenade.

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by Paul Laurence Dunbar

AH, Nora, my Nora, the light fades away,
While Night like a spirit steals up o'er
the hills;
The thrush from his tree where he chanted all
day,
No longer his music in ecstasy trills.
Then, Nora, be near me; thy presence doth
cheer me,
Thine eye hath a gleam that is truer than
gold.

I cannot but love thee; so do not reprove me,
If the strength of my passion should make
me too bold.

Nora, pride of my heart,--
Rosy cheeks, cherry lips, sparkling with
glee,--
Wake from thy slumbers, wherever thou art;
Wake from thy slumbers to me.

Ah, Nora, my Nora, there 's love in the air,--
It stirs in the numbers that thrill in my brain;
Oh, sweet, sweet is love with its mingling of
care,
Though joy travels only a step before pain.
Be roused from thy slumbers and list to my
numbers;
My heart is poured out in this song unto
thee.
Oh, be thou not cruel, thou treasure, thou
jewel;
Turn thine ear to my pleading and hearken
to me.


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