 | Areytos or songs and ballads of the South |  |
42
SONNET.—METHINKS, YOUNG SHEPHERD, YOU HAVE DREAMED!
Methinks, young shepherd, you have dreamed all this!Our fancies are most frolicsome, and oft
They bear the thought on erring wing aloft,
Where, 'scaped from reason, it is lost in bliss.
Beshrew me, but it is a pleasant spot
For fairies to make merry on, until
The steeple's clock, from yonder gray-browed hill,
Doth warn them from their vagrant sports, I wot!
Yet, till the dawning, they may brush the dew,
And it may be, methinks, in daylight too,
Albeit we see them not: the glare of day
May take, perchance, their feebler fires away—
As the stars fade when the full moon is fair,
And yet we know they still are twiring there.
| Areytos or songs and ballads of the South | |