S eek ye Love, ye fairy-sprites?
A nd where reddest roses grow,
R osy fancies he invites,
A nd in roses he delights,
H ave ye found him? “No!”
S eek again, and find the boy
I n Childhood’s heart, so pure and clear.
N ow the fairies leap for joy,
C rying, “Love is here!”
L ove has found his proper nest;
A nd we guard him while he dozes
I n a dream of peace and rest
R osier than roses.