Where we must soon in shadow sleep;
And is it meet so frail a thing,—
A trembling leaf,—should dance and sing?”
The green leaf, answering, softly sung,
“Sweet sister, once thyself was young,
And thy fond bosom danced with bliss,
E’en though the zephyr stole a kiss!
“I sing a soft and cheerful lay,
Perchance, because my heart is gay;
Perchance to please a floweret, born