Where is Fancy bred?

Now let mirth possess us wholly,
Knights and ladies, every one!
Thou shalt quit me, Melancholy,
Now that I have looked upon
All the loveliness of Spring;
For 'tis May, and in the meadows
Little birds are heard to sing.

They rejoice to see the beaming
Sun come o'er the hill to view.
Is there aught of lovelier seeming
Than a rose among the dew?
Nought, except a lady fair,
Who with womanly grace and sweetness
Decks her beauty past compare!

In the eyes love first abideth;
Then it enters in the heart.
Straightway love to love confideth,
"Love, would I were where thou art!"
This song on the woodland borders
By a little bird was sung.