That breathed around me seemed his only care.
For me the harp was strung, the page was turned;
For me the morning rose, the sunset burn’d;
For me the Spring put on her verdant suit;
For me the Summer flowers, the Autumn fruit;
The very world seemed mine, so mighty strove
For my contentment that enduring love.”
But the slumbers of the dear girl are at length broken, she discovers that it is but a dream, and thus repines over the contrast.
“Is all that radiance past—gone by for ever—
And must there in its stead for ever be