Beautiful girl, I have seen thee move
A floating creature of joy and love,
As light as a mist on the sunrise gale,
Or the buoyant sway of a bridal veil,
Till I almost looked to see thee rise
Like a soaring thought to the free blue skies,
Or melt away in the thin blue air,
Like a vision of fancy painted there.
Thy low sweet voice, as it thrills around,
Seems less a sound than a dream of sound;