Poetry Archives

Spring, among her sylvan shades,
And the gladness of her glades,
  Once in dreamy hours was straying,
Where sweet Music with her throngs
Of glad melodies and songs
  In the happy vales was playing.

Pan beheld the fairy maids
As they gamboled in the shades,
  And he swore they should not sever.
But that o’er the blooming land,
Heart to heart and hand in hand,
  They should wander on forever.

Thus when come the gentle days
O’er the wildwood’s tangled ways,
  There is found no gloomy weather;
For among the leafy bowers
And the valleys bright with flowers
  Spring and Music walk together!