Sauntering on with the birds and the flowers,
Talking of things that we know or we knew—
Of the pretty wishes that once were ours
In long-ago times when our years were few:
A wild little bird skims rapidly by;
And I tell of a day when my heart was stirr'd,
And I cried as only a child can cry,
That I was a girl instead of a bird.
'And oh!' in an eager manner I cried,
'I am feeling the very same wish to-day: