Three Fanciful Supposes

Were I a breath of viewless wind,As very spirits be,Where would I joy at length to findI was no longer free?Oh, Margaret's cheek,Whose blushes speakLove's purest sympathies,Would be the site,Where gleaming bright,My prison-dome should rise:I'd live upon that rosy shore,And fan it with soft sighs,Nor other paradise exploreBeneath the skies.

Were I a pranksome Elfin knight,Or eke the Faerye king,Who, when the moonshine glimmers bright,Loves to be wandering;

Where would I ride,In all the prideOf Elfin chivalry,With each sweet soundFar floating round,Of Faerye minstrelsy?—'Tis o'er her neck of drifted snow,Her passion-breathing lip,Her dainty chin and noble brow,That I would trip.

Were I a glossy plumaged bird,A small glad voice of song,Where would my love-lays aye be heard—Where would I nestle long?—In Margaret's earWhen none were near,I'd strain my little throat,To sing fond laysIn Margaret's praise,That could not be forgot;Then on her bosom would I fall,And from it never part—-Dizzy with joy, and proud to callMy home her heart!