I’d spring to greet her with my song,
The gayest of the festive throng.
When silent noon usurped the sky,
I’d hide me in the forest shade,
Where leaves and blossoms, twined on high,
An arching shelter made—
While cooling streams, the earth to bless,
Came gliding from the green recess.
Of gladness wearied, I would go
To seek the lonely captive’s cell;