A vision

The dust of the morn had been laid by a shower,

And the trees by the bridge were all covered with flower,

When a white palfrey passed with a saddle of gold,

And a damsel as fair as the fairest of old.

But she veiled so discreetly her charms from my eyes

That the boy who was with her quite felt for my sighs;

And although not a light-o'-love reckoned, I deem,

It was hard that this vision should pass like a dream.