And in my soul a new impulse be born.
If we could wander off far from the crowd
Among the hills—our voices there unheard—
Where once our hearts in unison beat loud,
To the sweet song of some wild mountain bird,
I think the twilight vail would lose its gloom,
That shrouds to-night the windows of my room.
Perhaps ’tis wrong that I should sadden you
With these rain-droppings that my heart-clouds shed;
Gladly would I distill a drop of dew