And breathes the fresh pure air, and hears
Her sigh of love, the maid whom he
Had loved in happier years:
Beauteous and kind as e’er of old,
Sweet flower of spring-time’s gay resort,
As could for love the meads behold,
Or gallant April court.
And joyful he to see her flies,
And seeks to reach her, but in vain;
For as with anxious hands he tries