One morn a Peri at the gate Of Eden stood disconsolate. - Thomas Moore

There was a little man, and he had a little soul;
And he said, Little Soul, let us try, try, try!

The bird let loose in Eastern skies,
Returning fondly home,
Ne'er stoops to earth her wing, nor flies
Where idle warblers roam;
But high she shoots through air and light,
Above all low delay,
Where nothing earthly bounds her flight,
Nor shadow dims her way.

And when once the young heart of a maiden is stolen,
The maiden herself will steal after it soon.