BY AMELIA.

I wandered out one summer night,
'Twas when my years were few,
The wind was singing in the light,
And I was singing too.
One fleecy cloud upon the air,
Was all that met my eyes,
It floated like an angel there,
Between me and the skies.
I clapped my hands and warbled wild,
As here and there I flew,
For I was but a careless child,
And did as children do.
I heard the laughing wind behind,
'Twas playing with my hair;
The breezy fingers of the wind,
How cool and moist they were.
The twilight hours came stealing by,
And still I wandered free;
Ten thousand stars were in the sky,
Ten thousand on the sea.
For ev'ry wave with dimpled face,
That leaped upon the air,
Had caught a star in its embrace,
And held it trembling there.
But wherefore weave such strains as these,
And sing them day by day,
When every bird upon the breeze
Can sing a sweeter lay.
I'd give the world for their sweet art.
The simple, the divine;
I'd give the world to melt one heart,
As they have melted mine.