Song: Memory, hither come

Memory, hither come,
       And tune your merry notes;
   And, while upon the wind
       Your music floats,

   I'll pore upon the stream
       Where sighing lovers dream,
   And fish for fancies as they pass
       Within the watery glass.

   I'll drink of the clear stream,
      And hear the linnet's song;
  And there I'll lie and dream
      The day along:

  And, when night comes, I'll go
      To places fit for woe,
  Walking along the darken'd valley
      With silent Melancholy.