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Low murmuring the gentle tones of love, Will swell the war cry, and breathe loud defiance!

IX.

It was a night of summer's mildest reign— Calm, lonely sweetness! scarce the breeze had pow'r To waft the fragrant sighs born with the dew; It did not stir a leaf, nor wake a sound; But all was quiet as an infant's sleep, Save when the distant waterfall was heard, Like airy notes of fairy minstrelsy. 'Twas a fair scene! beside them flowers bloom'd Such as the earth puts forth to grace the step Of a celestial visitant: the turf Gleam'd with the diamond dew; and over head, The half-form'd crescent of the young moon smil'd On the blue ocean of the starry heaven; A few light clouds were wandering around,