A Vision

The dust of the morn had been laid by a shower,
And the trees by the bridge were all covered with flower,
When a white palfrey passed with a saddle of gold.
And a damsel as fair as the fairest of old.
But she veiled so discreetly her charms from my eyes
That the boy who was with her quite felt for my sighs;
And although not a light-o'-love reckoned,
I deem.
It was hard that this vision should pass like a dream.