A Summer Day

SWEET valley, whose streams flow as sparkling and bright
As the stars that descend in the depths of the night;
Whose violets fling their rich breath on the air,
Sweet spendthrifts of treasure the Spring has flung there.

My lot is not with thee, 'tis far from thine own;
Nor thus, amid Summer and solitude thrown:
But still it is something to gaze upon thee,
And bless earth, that such peace on her bosom can be.

My heart and my steps both grow light as I bound
O'er the green grass that covers thy beautiful ground;
And joy o'er my thoughts, like the sun o'er the leaves,
A blessing in giving and taking receives.

I have heap'd up thy flowers, the wild and the sweet,
As if fresh from the touch of the night-elfin's feet;
A bough from thy oak, and a sprig from thy broom, —
I take them as keepsakes to tell of thy bloom.

Their green leaves may droop, and their colours may flee,
As if dying with sorrow at parting from thee;
And my memory fade with them, till thou wilt but seem
Like the flitting shape morning recalls of a dream.

Let them fade from their freshness, so leave they behind
One trace, like faint music, impress'd on the mind;
One leaf or one flower to memory will bring
The light of thy beauty, the hope of thy spring.