We rested in the garden bower;
While sweetly shone the evening sun,
In his departing hour.
"We told o'er all that we had done,—
Our rambles by the swift brook's side,
Far as the willow-skirted pool,
Where two fair swans together glide.
"We talked of change, of winter gone,
Of green leaves on the hawthorn spray,
Of birds that build their nests and sing,