Page:The Life of William Morris.djvu/82

ÆT. 22] And the finch sings cheerily, And the wren sings merrily, But the lark sings trancedly.

Silv'ry birch-trunks rise in air And beneath the birch-tree there Grows a yellow flower fair.

Many flowers grow around And about me is the sound Of the dead leaves on the ground.

Yea, I fell asleep last night When the moon at her full height Was a lovely, lovely sight.

I have had a troubled dream As I lay there in the beam Of the moon a sudden gleam

Of a white dress shot by me Yea the white dress frighted me Flitting by the aspen tree.

Suddenly it turned round With a weary moaning sound Lay the white dress on the ground

There she knelt upon her knees There, between the aspen trees O! the dream right dreary is.

With her sweet face turned to me Low she moaned unto me That she might forgiven be.

O! my lost love moaned there And her low moans in the air Sleepy startled birds did hear

O! my dream it makes me weep, That drear dream I had in sleep At the thought my pulses leap

For she lay there moaning low While the solemn wind did sough While the clouds did over go