A Sunny shaft did I behold, From sky to earth it slanted: And poised therein a bird so bold Sweet bird, thou wert enchanted! He sank, he rose, he twinkled, he troll’d Within that shaft of sunny mist; His eyes of fire, his beak of gold, All else of amethyst! And thus he sang: ‘Adieu adieu! Love’s dreams prove seldom true. The blossoms, they make no delay: The sparkling dew-drops will not stay. Sweet month of May, We must away; Far, far away! To-day! to-day!
Samuel Taylor Coleridge (21/10/1772- 25/07/1834) England