Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 2.djvu/315

CANTO III.] Of torrents, where he listeneth, to the vines

Which slope his green path downward to the shore,

Where the bowed Waters meet him, and adore,

Kissing his feet with murmurs; and the Wood,

The covert of old trees, with trunks all hoar,

But light leaves, young as joy, stands where it stood,

Offering to him, and his, a populous solitude.

CII.

A populous solitude of bees and birds,

And fairy-formed and many-coloured things,

Who worship him with notes more sweet than words,

And innocently open their glad wings,

Fearless and full of life: the gush of springs,

And fall of lofty fountains, and the bend

Of stirring branches, and the bud which brings

The swiftest thought of Beauty, here extend

Mingling—and made by Love—unto one mighty end.

CIII.

He who hath loved not, here would learn that lore,

And make his heart a spirit; he who knows