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WHERE the wild woods and pathless forests frown, The darkling Pilgrim seeks his unknown way, Till on the grass he throws him weary down, To wait in broken sleep the dawn of day; Thro' bought just waving in the silent air, With pale capricious light the Summer Moon Chequers his humid couch; while Fancy there, That loves to wanton in the Night's deep noon, Calls from the mossy roots and fountain edge Fair visionary Nymphs that haunt the shade, Or Naiads rising from the whispering sedge: And, 'mid the beauteous group, his dear loved maid Seems beckoning him with smiles to join the train: Then, starting from his dream, he feels his woes again. |
