A sunny shaft did I behold, From sky to earth it slanted: And poised therein a bird so bold— Sweet bird, thou wert enchanted!
He sank, he rose, he twinkled, he troll’d Within that shaft of sunny mist; His eyes of fire, his beak of gold, All else of amethyst!
And thus he sang: ‘Adieu! adieu! Love’s dreams prove seldom true. The blossoms, they make no delay: The sparking dew-drops will not stay. Sweet month of May, We must away; Far, far away! To-day! to-day!’