Classic Poem

The air, the dream-inspiring air
Is floating, flutt'ring all around;
Delicious waves of pent-up sound
Gush forth like some long cherished prayer.
The woodlands gleam
With many a stream,
The skies are blue,
A promise new.

Wake heart! Hope hastens with the Spring!
Aerial pinions waft her near;
A fairy palace crystal clear,
Round which the rosy sunbeams cling,
Cannot compare
With castles fair,
She builds at morn
By clouds upborne.

In greenest vales the lily wakes,
The violets in the breezes share,
And oh! the strange, enchanting air
Through pipes fantastic music makes.
And we so free,
By reverie
Are caught in chains
Of exquisite pains.

O treach'rous, dream-inspiring air!
Yet wherefore mar the joy it brings?
Do we complain when the bird sings,
Because his song dies on the air?
Like mist our dreams
Vanish, it seems,
But they were sweet,
Although so fleet.