Oh, For The Time When I Shall

She Bounded Before Me, And Returned To My Side, And Was Off Again Like A Young Greyhound; And, At First, I Found Plenty Of Entertaiment In Listening To The Larks Singing Far And Near; And Enjoying The Sweet, Warm Sunshine; And Watching Her, My Pet, And My Delight, With Her Golden Ringlets Flying Loose Behind, And Her Bright Cheek, As Soft And Pure In Its Bloom, As A Wild Rose, And Her Eyes Radiant With Cloudless Pleasure. She Was A Happy Creautre, And An Angel In Those Those Days. It Is A Pity She Could Not Stay Content.

If You Ever Looked At Me Once With What I Know Is In You, I'd Be Your Slave.

He'll Love And Hate Equally Under Cover, And Esteem It A Species Of Impertinence To Loved Or Hated Again.

Every Leaf Speaks Bliss To Me, Fluttering From The Autumn Tree.

I Got The Sexton, Who Was Digging Linton's Grave, To Remove The Earth Off Her Coffin Lid, And I Opened It. I Thought, Once, I Would Have Stayed There, When I Saw Her Face Again - It Is Hers Yet - He Had Hard Work To Stir Me; But He Said It Would Change, If The Air Blew On It.