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june.
I would be with thee on the sunny hills,
And by the streams would linger, as they flow
With their perpetual music, sweet and low:
And where, in light, leap out the shining rills,
Like chains of liquid diamonds, I would be;
Methinks 'twere sweet to wander far and free,
Tempting each craggy height or sylvan shade—
A loiterer, where the mossy banks, inlaid
With Nature's flowery gems, invite repose;
And stealing o'er my brow, thy breath of balm
Might lull each care my beating bosom knows,
And bid the tossing waves of thought be calm;
And I might half forget life's boding ills,
Roaming with thee out on the sunny hills.
And by the streams would linger, as they flow
With their perpetual music, sweet and low:
And where, in light, leap out the shining rills,
Like chains of liquid diamonds, I would be;
Methinks 'twere sweet to wander far and free,
Tempting each craggy height or sylvan shade—
A loiterer, where the mossy banks, inlaid
With Nature's flowery gems, invite repose;
And stealing o'er my brow, thy breath of balm
Might lull each care my beating bosom knows,
And bid the tossing waves of thought be calm;
And I might half forget life's boding ills,
Roaming with thee out on the sunny hills.
Alas! it may not be; I am forbid
By a stern duty, and my feet must press,
Day after day, in toil and weariness,
The city's streets; while in my heart is hid
Strange, passionate yearnings for a brighter spot:
My childhood's home is stealing on my sight—
In native loveliness all unforgot,
Fancy reveals it. Well I know, the blight
By a stern duty, and my feet must press,
Day after day, in toil and weariness,
The city's streets; while in my heart is hid
Strange, passionate yearnings for a brighter spot:
My childhood's home is stealing on my sight—
In native loveliness all unforgot,
Fancy reveals it. Well I know, the blight
