Violet.
Heigh-ho! Why art thou down so low?
Ideal.
That I may upward gaze at thee. For as
One in the deep bottom of a well, above
May see a star at midday, so do I
See thee from the deep bottom of this glen.
Violet.
With fancy thou dost blithely scale this stair,
As doth some heavenly singer; yet thou seest
Thou art still at the bottom of the glen.
Ideal.
Let us be like two notes in music blent;
Thou high, I low; yet both in sweet accord.
Violet.
Truly, thou art my Ideal. But, alack!
I’ve called thee by thy name.