AS THE SHADE IS SO IS LIFE 



Henceforth, I will be the fairy, 

 Of this bower not built by one ; 

 I will go then, sad or merry, 

 With each morning's benison, 

 And the bird shall be my harper in the dream- 

 hall I have won. 



By this couch I weakly lie on, 

 While I count my memories, 

 Through the fingers which, still sighing, 

 I press closely on mine eyes, 

 Clear as once beneath the sunshine, I beheld the 

 bower arise. 



Springs the linden-tree as greenly, 

 Stroked with light adown its rind; 

 And the ivy-leaves serenely 

 Each in either intertwined; 

 And the rose trees at the doorway, they have 

 neither grown nor pined. 



From those overblown faint roses 

 Not a leaf appeareth shed, 

 And that little bud discloses 



[219] 



