Oh! my valley of shade and dreams!

Golden lights 'mid the distant blue,

Sun that pauses to kiss the dew,

Dew that trembles beneath its beams—

Fain were I but a bird above,

Floating, drifting on waves of air!

Ah! the life of the birds is fair,

For they wing to the spheres they love.

And if I could but fly and sing

Thro' the sweetness of this dear day,

I would bring all the hope of May,

To thy heart, that is wan for Spring.