Lady! The Songs Of Spring Were In The Grove While I Was Shaping Beds For Winter Flowers; While I Was Planting Green Unfading Bowers, And Shrubs--To Hang Upon The Warm Alcove, And Sheltering Wall; And Still, As Fancy Wove The Dream, To Time And Nature'S Blended Powers I Gave This Paradise For Winter Hours, A Labyrinth, Lady! Which Your Feet Shall Rove. Yes! When The Sun Of Life More Feebly Shines, Becoming Thoughts, I Trust, Of Solemn Gloom Or Of High Gladness You Shall Hither Bring; And These Perennial Bowers And Murmuring Pines Be Gracious As The Music And The Bloom And All The Mighty Ravishment Of Spring.