A Dream of Life
| When I was young— long, long ago— I dreamed myself among the flowers; And fancy drew the picture so, They seemed like Fairies in their bowers. |
The rose was still a rose, you know—
But yet a maid. What could I do?
You surely would not have me go,
When rosy maidens seem to woo?
My heart was gay, and 'mid the throng
I sported for an hour or two;
We danced the flowery paths along,
And did as youthful lovers do.