“We will wander, hand in hand,
Ways where tall the toadstools stand,
Mile-stones white of Fairyland.
“While your eyes my lips shall kiss,
Dewy as a wild-rose is,
Till they gaze on naught but bliss.
“On the meadows you will hear,
Leaning low your spirit ear,
Cautious footsteps drawing near.
“You will deem it but a bee,
Murmuring soft and sleepily,
Till your inner sight shall see
“’Tis a presence passing slow,
All its shining hair ablow,
Through the white-tops’ tossing snow.
“By the waters, if you will,
And your inmost soul is still,
Melody your ears shall fill.
“You will deem it but the stream
Rippling onward in a dream,
Till upon your gaze shall gleam
“Arm of spray and throat of foam—
’Tis a spirit there a-roam
Where the radiant waters comb.
“In the forest, if you heed,
You shall hear a magic reed
Sow sweet notes like silver seed.
“You will deem your ears have heard
Stir of tree or song of bird,
Till your startled eyes are blurred