How could I dream a day would ever dawn, 
How could I dream the day would dawn, indeed, 
When daffodils should glisten on the lawn,
    And I not heed ? 

How strange it seems to think I never knew, 
That one day Spring's first breath should thrill the air, 
Brown furrows shine beneath the rain-washed blue,
    And I not care. 

How could I tell a long-remembered voice 
Might stir grey sorrow from her wintry sleep ? 
I did not dream the song-thrush would rejoice,
  And I but weep.