Lies open, writ in blossoms; not a bird
Of evil augury is seen or heard:
Come now, like Pan's old crew, we'll dance and sing,
Or Oberon's: for hill and valley ring
To March's bugle-horn,--Earth's blood is stirred.
From 'Flower Pieces.'
(To an Irish Tune)
O lovely Mary Donnelly, it's you I love the best!