Oh! that we two were Maying,
Down the stream of the soft spring breeze;
Like children with violets playing
In the shade of the whisp'ring trees.

Oh! that we two sat dreaming
On the sward of the sheep-trimm'd down,
Watching the white mist streaming
O'er river, and mead, and town.

Oh! that we two lay sleeping,
In our nest in the churchyard sod,
With our limbs at rest on the quiet earth's breast,
And our souls at home with God.