Ii

She, who is fraught with it, Thrilled with it, brought with it, Spring!--like a thought, with it Beautiful too! Now like a dream of it; Filled with the gleam of it; Now a bright beam of it, Piercing me through, Sweet, with her eyes that are often Laughter and languor; that soften Dreamily, drowsily, slowly, Then, on a sudden, are wholly Dancing as dew.