FANCY.

The gleam of a star which thou canst not see, Or an eye 'neath its sleeping lid, The tune of a far off melody, The voice of a stream that's hid; Such must I still remain to thee, A wonder and a mystery,

I live in the poet's dream, I flash on the painter's eye, I dwell in the moon's pale beam, In the depths of the star-lit sky; I traverse the earth, the air, the main, And bind young hearts in my golden chain.

I float on the crimson cloud, My voice is in every breeze, I speak in the tempest loud, In the sigh of the wind-stirred trees; To the sons of earth, in a magic tone, I tell of a world more bright than their own!