Page:Poems Kemble.djvu/48

Dancing in circles by the moon's soft beam,
Hiding in blossoms from the sun's fierce gleam,
 Whilst thou, in darkness, sing'st thy life away?
And canst thou feel when the spring-time returns,
 Filling the earth with fragrance and with glee;
When in the wide creation nothing mourns,
 Of all that lives, save that which is not free?
Oh! if thou couldst, and we could hear thy prayer,
 How would thy little voice beseeching cry,
For one short draught of the sweet morning air,
 For one short glimpse of the clear azure sky!
Perchance thou sing'st in hope thou shalt be free,
 Sweetly and patiently thy task fulfilling;
While thy sad thoughts are wandering with the bee,
 To every bud with honey dew distilling.
That hope is vain: for even couldst thou wing
 Thy homeward flight back to the greenwood gay,
Thou'dst be a shunned and a forsaken thing,
 'Mongst the companions of thy happier day.
For fairy sprites, like many other creatures,
 Bear fleeting memories, that come and go;
Nor can they oft recall familiar features,
 By absence touched, or clouded o'er with woe.