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Oh, there is blessing in this gentle breeze A visitant that while it fans my cheek Doth seem half-conscious of the joy it brings From the green fields, and from yon azure sky Whate'er its mission, the soft breeze can come To none more grateful than to me Escaped from the vast city, where I long had pined A discontented sojourner: now free Free as a bird to settle where I will What dwelling shall receive me? In what vale shall be my harbour? Underneath what grove shall I take up my home? And what clear stream shall with its murmur lull me into rest? The earth is all before me With a heart joyous, nor scared at its own liberty I look about and should the chosen guide Be nothing better than a wandering cloud I cannot miss my way, I breathe again Trances of thought and mountings of the mind Come fast upon me, it is shaken off That burthen of my own unnatural self The heavy weight of many a weary day Letras de cancionesNot mine, and such as it were not made for me Long months of peace If such bold word accord with any promises of human life Long months of ease and undisturbed delight Are mine in prospect, whither shall I turn By road or pathway or through trackless field Up hill or down or shall some floating thing Upon the river point me out my course? From Letras Mania