69 
And there is music in each breeze 
That sports along the glade; 
The crystal dew-drops on the trees 
Are gems, by Fancy made; 
There’s gladness too in every thing, 
And beauty over all, 
And every where comes on with Spring, 
A charm which cannot pall. 
And I — my heart is full of joy, 
And gratitude is there, 
That He who might my life destroy 
Has yet vouchsafed to spare. 
The friends I once condemned, are now 
Affectionate and true; 
1 wept a pledged one’s broken vow, 
But he proves faithful too. 
