Child of the pure unclouded brow
And dreaming eyes of wonder!
Though time be fleet, and I and thou
Are half a life asunder,
Thy loving smile will surely hail
The love-gift of a fairy-tale.
Prologue to Through the Looking Glass
Awake, O north wind, and come, O south wind! Blow upon my garden, let its spices flow…
Song of Songs 4:16