Crossing the leafy gloom. How full of life,
The life of song, and breezes, and free wings,
Is all the murmuring shade! and thine, oh thine!
Of all the brightest and the happiest here,
My blessed child! my gift of God! that makest
My heart o’erflow with summer!
Hast thou twined
Thy wreath so soon! yet will we loiter not,
Though here the blue-bell wave, and gorgeously
Round the brown, twisted roots of yon scathed oak