Fairyland
How madly all the glad birds sing! Exultingly and without cease;But O to dream, and rest and dream! And drift in harbors cool with peace.
My ship shall be of clover bloom, The tiny helm a blue flower near;The breeze will bear its rare perfume, And waft its sweetness to the air.
Through starry isles, a lily sea, Upon the poppy's glowing strand,My happy ship will carry me Into the gates of fairy-land.
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