Page:Felicia Hemans in The Christian Examiner 1825.pdf/2



wert thou, in the dreams Of elder time, thou land of glorious flowers, And summer-winds, and low-ton'd silvery streams, Dim with the shadows of thy laurel-bowers! Where, as they pass'd, bright hours Left no faint sense of parting, such as clings To earthly love, and joy in loveliest things!

Fair wert thou, with the light On thy blue hills and sleepy waters cast, From purple skies ne'er deepening into night, Yet soft, as if each moment were their last Of glory, fading fast Along the mountains!— but thy golden day Was not as those that warn us of decay.

And ever, through thy shades, A swell of deep Eolian sound went by, From fountain-voices in their secret glades, And low reed-whispers, making sweet reply To summer's breezy sigh! And young leaves trembling to the wind's light breath, Which ne'er had touch'd them with a hue of death!

And the transparent sky Rung as a dome, all thrilling to the strain Of harps that, midst the woods, made harmony Solemn and sweet; yet troubling not the brain With dreams and yearnings vain, And dim remembrances, that still draw birth From the bewildering musick of the earth.

And who, with silent tread, Mov'd o'er the plains of waving Asphodel? Who, of the hosts, the night-o'erpeopling dead,