Page:Landon in Literary Gazette 1826.pdf/13

11

wand'ring in my sleep— O what treasures thou dost keep In thy wild imaginings, Spirit of the folded wings!— Methought I was in a grove Sacred to and home of Love; In it there were thousand flowers, Changing with the changing hours; Fountains dancing in the shade To music by their murmuring made; While around acacia trees Trifled with the sun and breeze. Wandering step and wandering sight Were at first enough delight; I gazed upon the azure sky, Where the clouds went floating by, Some tinged with the serpentine Of the rainbow's opal line— Others laden with the dew Which illumines Morning's hue. Then I mark'd a temple rise, Made of marble, such as lies In the vein of virgin snow Round the Parian mountain's brow, White as it were snow had grown, By some magic, into stone. All were to that shrine addrest, And I enter'd with the rest; All asked boons—what could I do, But like them ask something too? Down I knelt before the shrine, Where was placed the Boy divine, And I pray'd that I might prove That deep happiness of love Which will find all that can bless In its own dear faithfulness. As the God smiled on my prayer, Melts the temple into air. I waken'd:—said my heart to me, How like to reality! Thus, alas! our hopes take flight, Like the visions of the night!L. E. L.