Pure as that gale whose light wing drew
Its freshness from the mountain dew,
Glow’d thy young heart with feelings high,
A heaven of hallow’d ecstasy!
Such days were thine! ere love had drawn
A cloud o’er that celestial dawn!
As the clear dews in morning’s beam
With soft reflected colouring stream,
Catch every tint of eastern gem
To form the rose’s diadem,