Ah! why so brief the visit, short his stay?
The acquaintance so surprising, and so sweet,
Stolen is my heart, 't is journeying far away,
With that shy stranger whom my voice did greet.
That hour so fertile of entrancing thought,
So rapt the conversation, and so free,
My heart lost soundings, tenderly upcaught,
Driven by soft sails of love and ecstasy!
Was I then? was I? clasped in Love's embrace,
And touched with ardors of divinity?
Spake with my chosen lover face to face,
Espoused then truly? such my destiny?
I cannot tell; but own the pleasing theft,
That when the stranger went, I was of Love bereft.

The April rains are past, the frosts austere,
The flowers are hungering for the genial sun,
The snow 's dissolved, the merry birds are here,
And rural labors now are well begun.
Hither, from the disturbing, noisy Court
I 've flown to this sequestered, quiet scene,
To meditate on Love and Love's disport
Mid these smooth pastures and the meadows green.
Sure 't were no fault of mine, no whispering sin,
If these coy leaves he sends me seem to speak
All that my heart, caressing, folds within;
Nor if I sought to smother, my flushed cheek
Would tell too plainly what I cannot hide,
Fond fancy disenchant nor set aside.