And tune your merry notes：

    And， while upon the wind

    Your music floats，

    I'll pore upon the stream

    Where sighing lovers dream，

    And fish for fancies as they pass

    Within the watery glass.

    I'll drink of the clear stream，

    And hear the linnet's song；

    And there I'll lie and dream

    The day along：

    And when night comes， I'll go

    To places fit for woe，

    Walking along the darken'd valley

    With silent Melancholy.