And laughed and chattered in its song.
Each reed or fern by which it sped
Lifted again its drooping head,
And thankful smiled a greeting gay
To cheer it on its helpful way.
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No window-curtains, but instead,
The lilac shade, outside was spread, -
A fickle shade that then and now
Suffered a ray to kiss the brow
Of maiden fair, then in a trice
Had shut it out from Paradise.
Ah, well the sun might find delight
In gazing on that forehead white,
And well the lilac (jealous elf!)
Might strive to keep it to itself!
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