why the small bird's grief is form'd of Dreams

why the small bird's grief is form'd of Dreams

To his cold bright beauties swag on a summer morn,
love will smile its translucent smile,
with a rosy bosom, and eyes forlorn,
and all will be well in a little while.
To myself the Sun will keep my heart,
oh happy songs! I sing happy cheer!
When beloved’s song piped:
he then came quite near,
and vanished in a ring of light.
Rose's thickest shades of time blew open and there,
by magic, was a silver door.
Then we saw, it 'twas the night,
thrust like spears upon a black shore.
My love and he laughing said "I've a sigh,
'tis reaches farther than the light of woe!"
"Renew thy strength," I then replied,
"take your delight in the snow!"
I could not be dark as the night,
for morn blushed rosy as clay,
and the dread hand of darkness
faded from sight, and the Sun,
a lonely fen, was mine today.