Oh that I were a fairy sprite, to wander br In forest paths, o'erarched with oak and beech; br Where the sun's yellow light, in slanting rays, br Sleeps on the dewy moss: what time the breath br Of early morn stirs the white hawthorn boughs, br And fills the air with showers of snowy blossoms. br Or lie at sunset 'mid the purple heather, br Listening the silver music that rings out br From the pale mountain bells, swayed by the wind.