And now, when merry winds do blow, br And rain makes trees look fresh, br An overpowering staleness holds br This mortal flesh. br br Though well I love to feel the rain, br And be by winds well blown -- br The mystery of mortal life br Doth press me down. br br And, In this mood, come now what will, br Shine Rainbow, Cuckoo call; br There is no thing in Heaven or Earth br Can lift my soul. br br I know not where this state comes from -- br No cause for grief I know; br The Earth around is fresh and green, br Flowers near me grow. br br I sit between two fair rose trees; br Red roses on my right, br And on my left side roses are br A lovely white. br br The little birds are full of joy, br Lambs bleating all the day; br The colt runs after the old mare, br And children play. br br And still there comes this dark, dark hour -- br Which is not borne of Care; br Into my heart it creeps before br I am aware.