Over a hill with an old stone structure,
Over dale with balmy roses and a roaming vulture
Thorough a familiar loving bush, thorough a brier,
Thorough winter flood, thorough summer wild thorns fire
There I did wander everywhere, again in my dream I did not share
Sweet childhood swifter than the moon's sphere;
And I saw phantom of delight in the woods of the forest queen,
The morning zephyrs dance to dew her orbs upon the green;
The cowslips were tall her pensioners to be;
In their gold coats spots I could see;
Those be my rubies, fairy favors;
In those freckles live their savors;
I must go now to the meadow and seek some dewdrops there,
Like old days to hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear with fresh scent of the air
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