And gem-studded waters on golden sands flow,
Where shrubs blossom-laden, bright birds, and sweet trees,
With odors and music encumber the breeze;
I languish to catch but a breathing of thee,
To hear thy wild winter-notes brilliant and free,
To feel thy cool touch on my heart-strings opprest,
And gather a tone from the bracing Nor-West.
Mists melt at thy coming, clouds flee from thy wrath,
The marsh and its vapors are seal’d on thy path,
For spotless and pure as the snow-covered North,