24
How glad was my spirit! for then there was nought
To burthen its wing, save some beautiful thought
Breaking up from its depths with each wild wind, that blew
O'er the green mossy bank where the buttercups grew.
To burthen its wing, save some beautiful thought
Breaking up from its depths with each wild wind, that blew
O'er the green mossy bank where the buttercups grew.
The paths I have trod I would quickly retrace,
Could I win back the gladness, that looked from my face
As I cooled my warm lip in that fountain, I love
With a spirit as pure as the wing of a dove—
Could I wander again where my forehead was starred
With the beauty that dwelt in my bosom unmarred,
And, calm as a child in the starlight and dew,
Fall asleep on the bank where the buttercups grew.
Could I win back the gladness, that looked from my face
As I cooled my warm lip in that fountain, I love
With a spirit as pure as the wing of a dove—
Could I wander again where my forehead was starred
With the beauty that dwelt in my bosom unmarred,
And, calm as a child in the starlight and dew,
Fall asleep on the bank where the buttercups grew.
