Romance
|Romance,to nod and sing
|With drowsy head and folded wing
|Among the green leaves as they shake
|Far down within some shadowy lake,
|To me a painted paroquet
|Hath been-most familiar bird-
|Taught me my alhabet to say,
|To lisp my very earliest world
|While in the wild wood I did lie,
|A child—with a most knowing eye.
|Of late, eternal condor years
|So shake the very Haven on high
|With tumultas they thunder by,
|I have no time for idle cares
|Through gazing on the unquiet sky;
|And when an hour with calmer wings
|Its down upon my spirit flings,
|Its down upon my spirit fling
|To while away forbidden things—
|My heart would feel to be a crimesup>
|Unless it trembled with the srings.