Page:Poems of Sentiment and Imagination.djvu/41

Rh Fanny's heart was always light,

Light and free as plumed bird;

When she glanced within our sight,

Or her merry voice we heard,

Music in our hearts was stirred.

Ask you still where Fanny hides?

I will tell you by and by;

Look you where the river glides,

In whose depths the shadows lie,

Mingled of the earth and sky.

Fanny always loved that spot;

There her favorite ﬂowers grew—

Violet, Forget-me-not,

And the Iris' gold and blue,

With its pearly beads of dew.

Oft on the old rustic bridge,

Made of supple boughs entwined,

Hanging from each margin's ridge

Like a hammock in the wind,

Fanny fearlessly reclined.

And she told me, while her eyes

Filled with tears of childish bliss,

That she could see Paradise,

From her rocking resting-place,

Mirrored in the river's face;

That she saw the tall trees wave;

Bright—winged birds among their bowers;

And a river that did lave

Banks o'ergrown with fairest ﬂowers,

And a sky more bright than ours.

Then she asked, with such a smile

As an angel face might wear,

If she watched a long, long while,