(1790-1872 / Denmark)

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I remember a far place, where I would gladly be;
There, hours glided slowly, silently,
As clear as silver pearls, strung on a golden wire,
And gentle as the words of first desire.

The birds played there all day among the maple boughs ;
I lived as they in one long mad carouse.
In my romping I would scour the meadows everywhere,
And what the neighbors said, I did not care.

And from the window gazing at the high trees above,
In later days I dreamed of him I love;
And when I heard his foot-steps hastening to me,
My heart rose in a silent ecstasy.

Beside the hedge of roses, we sat beneath the moon,
And listened to the rivulet's rippled tune.
Our words, half in earnest, half in fun, flew to and fro ;
Which you may have forgotten long ago.

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