Page:Felicia Hemans in The Literary Souvenir 1826.pdf/10



I. art a thing on our dreams to rise, 'Midst the echoes of long-lost melodies, And to fling bright dew from the morning back, Fair form, on each image of Childhood's track!

II. Thou art a thing to recall the hours When the love of our souls was on leaves and flowers; When a world was our own in some dim, sweet grove, And treasure untold in one captive Dove!

III. Are they gone? can we think it, while thou art there, Thou radiant child with the clustering hair? Is it not Spring that indeed breathes free And fresh o'er each thought, as we gaze on thee?