Page:Landon in Fisher's Drawing Room Scrap Book 1834.pdf/67

Rh and joyous figure, one that seems As if the air were her own element; Begirt with cheerful thoughts, and bringing back Old days, when nymphs upon Arcadian plains Made musical the wind, and in the sun Flash’d their bright cymbals and their whitest hands. These were the days of poetry—the woods Were haunted with sweet shadows; and the caves Odorous with moss, and lit with shining spars, Were homes where Naiades met some graceful youth Beneath the moonlit heaven—all this is past; Ours is a darker and a sadder age; Heaven help us through it!—’tis a weary world The dust and ashes of a happier time.