Song (Take me from these dreary shades) Take me from these dreary shades, Lift me to some softer morn, Where the laughing light invades That old silence of the glades Which was born when trees were born; Where the docile winds take care Not to ruffle any brook, Lest queen-clouds that pace the air Should not find a mirror there When they pace, and pause, and look; Where the dazzling nights endure Till the day has passed its spring, And where starlight is so pure That no bird is ever sure Whether it should sleep or sing. Somewhere there is never rain, Never trouble in the air, Not a sigh of fear or pain,— Take me to that land again; I am sure I once was there. |
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