Sweet Sylvia, where does your heart now roam,
What pleasured lands do you now grace with glee?
Can your bright smile still blind the golden sun,
And warm the souls of those so blessed to see?
Does your soft voice still echo distant songs,
Half remembered, yet half forgotten too,
Soft fading strains when rousing strains have gone,
That sooth and linger in the drawing room;
And does the moon still gild your raven hair,
And do the stars still dance with crazed delight
When you, sweet summer sylph do take the air,
And float through silvered gardens in the night?
I know that ever where on earth you stand,
All eyes are one, your spectacle so grand.
©Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.