Till sickly thoughts bewitch thine eyes, and thou Behold'st her shadow still abiding there, The Naiad of the mirror ! Not to thee, O wild and desert stream! belongs this tale : Save when the shy king-fishers build their nest stream! This be my chosen haunt-emancipate From passion's dreams, a freeman, and alone, I rise and trace its devious course. O lead, Lead me to deeper shades and lonelier glooms. Lo stealing through the canopy of firs, How fair the sunshine spots that mossy rock, Isle of the river, whose disparted waves Dart off asunder with an angry sound, How soon to re-unite! And see! they meet, Each in the other lost and found: and see Placeless, as spirits, one soft water-sun Throbbing within them, heart at once and eye! With its soft neighbourhood of filmy clouds, The stains and shadings of forgotten tears, Dimness o'erswum with lustre ! Such the hour * Tower from thy shores-1802. Of deep enjoyment, following love's brief feuds ; The landscape on my sight! Two crescent hills A circular vale, and land-lock'd, as might seem, The smoke from cottage-chimneys, tinged with light, * How soon to reunite! They meet, they join In deep embrace, and open to the sun Lie calm and smooth. Such the delicious hour 1802. † I come out into light-Ib. Unfilleted, and of unequal lengths. A curious picture, with a master's haste Peel'd from the birchen bark! Divinest maid! For this may'st thou flower early, and the sun, And not ungentle even to me! My heart, Why beats it thus? Through yonder coppice-wood Needs must the pathway turn, that leads straightway* On to her father's house. She is alone! The night draws on-such ways are hard to hit— * That leads away-1802. |