HOW SWEET I ROAMED

 How sweet I roam'd from field to field, 
 And tasted all the summer's pride,
 'Till I the prince of love beheld,
 Who in the sunny beams did glide!

 He shew'd me lilies for my hair,
 And blushing roses for my brow;
 He led me through his gardens fair,
 Where all his golden pleasures grow.

 With sweet May dews my wings were wet,
 And Phoebus fir'd my vocal rage;
 He caught me in his silken net,
 And shut me in his golden cage.

 He loves to sit and hear me sing,
 Then, laughing, sports and plays with me;
 Then stretches out my golden wing,
 And mocks my loss of liberty. 

См. кинофильм!
The Beauty of Touch
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