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I have walk'd through wildernesses dreary,And today my heart is weary;Had I now the soul of a Faery,Up to thee would I fly.There is madness about thee, and joy divineIn that song of thine;Up with me, up with me, high and high,To thy banqueting-place in the sky!Joyous as Morning,Thou art laughing and scorning;Thou hast a nest, for thy love and thy rest:And, though little troubled with sloth,Drunken Lark! thou would'st be lothTo be such a Traveller as I.Happy, happy Liver!With a soul as strong as a mountain River,Pouring out praise to the Almighty Giver,
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