I wish and I wish And I wish I were A golden bee In the blue of the air, Winging my way At the mouth of day To the honey marges Of Loch-ciuin-ban; Or a little green drake, Or a silver swan, Floating upon The stream of Aili, And I to be swimming Gaily, gaily!
The speaker is caught up in a daydream of transformation. Over and over, they wish they could become something small and bright in the natural world—a golden bee moving through blue morning air toward the sweet edges of Loch Ciun Ban, or a little green drake, or a silver swan floating on the stream…
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