WHEN airy joy doth hail me
I follow on behind,
And lest my feet should fail me
I follow on the wind;
I hear her lightsome laughter
Go floating past the door,
And swift I follow after
As she flies on before.

When I am faint and falling,
And lose her skyey wings,
I hear her liquid calling,
And feel the charm she flings
On all the earth and o’er me,
Then eagerly I rise,
And see her skirts before me
Go glittering up the skies.

The best of life would daunt me
Ungirdled by her grace,
And foreign demons haunt me
Whene’er she hides her face.

Up roughest steeps with laughter
My airy joy doth soar,
As wind-like I come after,
And she flies on before.