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From ancient fairy stories
Beckons a snow-white hand,
And voices sing the glories
Of the Enchanted Land.
Where gorgeous flowers languish
At golden eventide,
Gazing with tender anguish,
As bridegroom looks on bride:
Where all the trees have voices
And join the choral song;
Where every brook rejoices
And, singing, bounds along;
Where love-songs sound more sweetly
Than any mortal lays,
Till rapt desire completely
The joyous senses sways!
Oh in that Land Enchanted
To dwell in ecstasy!
No more by sorrow haunted,
But whole, and gay and free!
Oh, Land of all my yearning,
I see it in my dream.
It flies with day's returning
Like foam upon a stream!
Beckons a snow-white hand,
And voices sing the glories
Of the Enchanted Land.
Where gorgeous flowers languish
At golden eventide,
Gazing with tender anguish,
As bridegroom looks on bride:
Where all the trees have voices
And join the choral song;
Where every brook rejoices
And, singing, bounds along;
Where love-songs sound more sweetly
Than any mortal lays,
Till rapt desire completely
The joyous senses sways!
Oh in that Land Enchanted
To dwell in ecstasy!
No more by sorrow haunted,
But whole, and gay and free!
Oh, Land of all my yearning,
I see it in my dream.
It flies with day's returning
Like foam upon a stream!
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