Fantasy by Marie Van Vorst

I hear the fluttering wind, I see / The shadows on the grass. / I wish that you would come to me! / I would not let you pass! / But springing up from where I lie, / I take you in my arms, would I! / I'd tell you where white heather grows, / I'd kiss you, and I'd hold you close, / I would not let you pass!

Here, by my side, you'd watch with me / Cloud shadows on the grass. / If chance that you should come may be, / I will not let you pass! / Where the lost faerie kingdoms lie, / I'll tell in wonder-tales -- will I! / And as the brilliant fancy grows, / I'll kiss you, and I'll hold you close, / I will not let you pass!