"How sweet I roamed from field to field,
And tasted all the summer's pride,
Till I the prince of love beheld,
Who in the summer beams did glide.
He showed me lilies for my hair,
And blushing roses for my brow,
He led me thro' his gardens fair,
Where all his golden pleasures grow.
With sweet May-dew my wings were wet,
And Phœbus fired my vocal rage,
He caught me in his silken net,
And shut me in his golden cage.
He loves to sit and hear me sing,
Then laughing sports and plays with me,
And stretches out my golden wing,
And mocks my loss of liberty."
"Love and harmony combine,
- Poetical Sketches, p. 10. Malkin, who quotes this song, says it was written before the age of fourteen.
- Ibid, p. 12.