  Thou beholdest in thy vision Fable’s silent flow’rs before thee, And a yearning wild steals o’er thee At their fragrant scent elysian. But thou from those flow’rs art parted By a gulf both deep and fearful; Thou becomest sad and tearful, And at last art broken-hearted. How they glitter! how they lure me! Could I but the gulf pass over! How the secret to discover, And a bridge across procure me? |
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