This beauty made me dream there was a time Long past and irrecoverable, a clime Where any brook so radiant racing clear Through buttercup...

What does it mean? Tired, angry, and ill-at-ease, No man, woman, or child alive could please Me now. And yet I almost dare to laugh...

The rock-like mud unfroze a little and rills Ran and sparkled down each side of the road Under the catkins wagging in the hedge. But...