John Banister Tabb



Love's Hybla

by John Banister Tabb

My thoughts fly to thee, as the bees
To find their favorite flower;
Then home, with honeyed memories
Of many a fragrant hour:

For with thee is the place apart
Where sunshine ever dwells,
The Hybla, whence my hoarding heart
Would fill its wintry cells.


Copyright 1894
John Lane, LondonCopeland and Day, Boston
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