Classic Poem

Oh for a valley far away!
Where human foot hath never been,
Where sunbeams ever brightly play,
And all is young, and fresh, and green.

Oh for a valley far away!
Where human tongue ne'er utter'd sound
Where envy, hate, and treachery
Have never yet an entrance found.

Where cunning never spread her wile;
Where passion's fever never burn'd,
Making the heart a fun'ral pile
Of hopes to desolation burn'd —

Where nature only sees for tears,
The dewy drops, by Morning shed;
When with a Mother's love she cheers
The little flowret's drooping head —

Where nature only hears for sighs
The balm that gentle Zephyr breathes;
When through the scented grove he flies
Kissing the dew drops from its leaves —

There could I spend my peaceful days,
With only one my lot to share;
One in whose soul depths I might gaze,
And see my thoughts reflected there.

With one who car'd for none but me,
Whose looks of love were all my own;
Whose heart would for my image be
A living tomb when I am gone.

Is this the destiny that I desire?
Oh no! I'm infinitely better here;
I verily believe I should expire,
If doom'd to solitude a single year;
'Tis well there was no evil Fairy near,
To grant immediately what'ere I chose;
Or, for my wishing, I had paid as dear,
As that poor man who (as the story goes)
Attach'd a long, black pudding to his spouse's nose —