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And find those tears warm as when last they started,
While thus he thinks, still nearer on the breeze Come those delicious, dream-like harmonies, Each note of which but adds new, downy links To the soft chain in which his spirit sinks. He turns him toward the sound; and far away Through a long vista, sparkling with the play Of countless lamps, — like the rich track which day Leaves on the waters when he sinks from us, So long the path, its light so tremulous, – He sees a group of female forms advance : Some chain'd together in the mazy dance By fetters, forged in the green sunny bowers, As they were captives to the King of Flowers; And some disporting round, unlink'd and free, Who seem'd to mock their sisters' slavery, And round and round them still, in wheeling flight, Went, like gay moths about a lamp at night; While others waked, as gracefully along Their feet kept time, the very soul of song From psaltery, pipe, and lutes of heavenly thrill, Or their own youthful voices, heavenlier still ! And now they come, now pass before his eye, Forms such as Nature moulds, when she would vie With Fancy's pencil, and give birth to things Lovely beyond its fairest picturings! Awhile they dance before him, then divide
Their distant laughter comes upon the wind,
There's a bower of roses by Bendemeer's stream,
long In the time of my childhood 'twas like a sweet
dream, To sit in the roses and hear the bird's song.
That bower and its music I never forget, But oft when alone, in the
bloom of the year, I think — is the nightin
gale singing there
by the calm
No, the roses
soon wither'd that hung o'er
But some blossoms were gather’d, while freshly they
shone, And a dew was distill’d from their flowers, that gave
All the fragrance of summer, when summer was gone.
Thus memory draws from delight, ere it dies,
An essence that breathes of it many a year; Thus bright to my soul, as 'twas then to my eyes,
Is that bower on the banks of the calm Bendemeer!
"Poor maiden !” thought the youth, "if thou wert
Scarce had this feeling pass'd when sparkling through The gently open'd curtains of light blue That veil'd the breezy casement, countless eyes, Peeping like stars through the blue evening skies, Look'd laughing in, as if to mock the pair That sat so still and melancholy there.