Ah! what were all the running brooks From ocean-side to ocean-side, And what were all the chattering wrens That wake the wood with song, And what were all the roses red In all the flowery meadows wide, And what were all the fairy clouds That 'cross the heavens throng— And what were all the joys that bide In meadow, wood and down, To me, if I were at your side Within the joyless town?