36
POEMS.
For scarce my life with fancy played,
Before I dreamed that pleasant dream,
Still hither, thither, idly swayed,
Like the long mosses in the stream.
Before I dreamed that pleasant dream,
Still hither, thither, idly swayed,
Like the long mosses in the stream.
VII.
Sometimes I whistled in the wind,
Sometimes I angled, thought and deed
Torpid, as swallows left behind
That winter 'neath the floating weed:
At will to wander everyway
From brook to brook my sole delight,
As lithe eels over meadows gray
Oft shift their glimmering pool by night.
Sometimes I whistled in the wind,
Sometimes I angled, thought and deed
Torpid, as swallows left behind
That winter 'neath the floating weed:
At will to wander everyway
From brook to brook my sole delight,
As lithe eels over meadows gray
Oft shift their glimmering pool by night.
VIII.
How dear to me in youth, my love,
Was every thing about the mill,
The black and silent pool above,
The pool beneath that ne'er stood still,
How dear to me in youth, my love,
Was every thing about the mill,
The black and silent pool above,
The pool beneath that ne'er stood still,
