Fancy's Masquerade

WANDERING sunny meadows o,
Came a pretty child to me,
And a golden bow he bore,
While as blithe as any bee
Rang his voice across the lea,
“ Follow, follow, follow me! ”

“ Who then art thou, dear my child?
Sure I’ve seen that shining bow;
But that laughter, sweet and wild,
Sounds not like the voice I know:
That is ever sweet and low.”
“ Follow, follow, where I go!

“ I am Love, thy lord and king;
See you not my arrows here?
Hark! their barbèd pointlets ring
In my quiver crystal-clear.
Come, if Love to thee be dear,
Follow, follow, all that hear!”

“ Sweet my child, I know thee now;
Thou art Fancy, fair and free!
Thou mayst mask that sunny brow,
But thy rainbow wings I see.
Vain thy masking, dear, for me;
Well I know true Love from thee!

“ He hath eyes as bright as thine,
But they wear a softer sheen,
And a sadness half divine
Veils the sweetness of his mien;
Yes, whoe’er his face hath seen
Knoweth it from thine, I ween.

“ All the voices of the earth
Call him excellent and great,
But grief, hand in hand with mirth,
Still doth on his footsteps wait,
And the shadowy wings of fate
Darken o’er his royal state!

“ On his left hand and his right
Pain and pleasure ever go;
And before his eyes the sight
Of the anguish and the woe
That his dearest ones must know
Maketh still his laughter low!

“ Vain thy pretty masquerade,
Fancy fleet! on Love alone
Can those constant hearts be stayed
That have once his secrets known;
When thy facile wings have flown,
His sway hath but stronger grown! ”