DEVOTION

Radio Record, Volume III, Issue 52, 11 July 1930, Page 34

DEVOTION

When the dream mists flutter softly Down the edges of the sky, And the blossoms, pale and fragrant With the wind go drifting by, When the moon's a silver bubble All a-tremble in the blue, Then the night, my dear, is paying Its homage unto you. _ Do you hear the whitring quiver Of the fireflies as they pass? Do you see the dewy cobwebs Upon the shadowed grass? Do you see the wraiths of stardust Go scattering down the sky? They are waiting, waiting, waiting, Tili your gentle feet go by... When the last lamp fades in shadow, And the beetles drone and whirr, When the moonmoths glow with silver And the leaves are all a-stir; When the countless stars are golden And a dreaming wind drifts through, Then the night, my dear, is paying Its homage unto you...

A.N.I.

C.