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A breath of May, and of the wood's repose; For I in sooth depart, With a reluctant heart, That fain would linger where the bright sun glows.

Fain would I stay with thee— Alas! this may not be; Yet bring me still the gifts of happier hours! Go where the fountain's breast Catches in glassy rest The dim green light that pours thro' laurel bowers.

I know how softly bright, Steep'd in that tender light, The water-lilies tremble there ev'n now; Go to the pure stream's edge, And from its whisp'ring sedge, Bring me those flowers to cool my fever'd brow!