"A hoary gleam through boughs prevailing Tells me how near the ocean lies, Here caged in many a waveless lake By cypressed ridge and shadowy brake: Far off the nightingale is wailing: More near the watery grot replies.The forest growths are rocked and dandled By airs with midnight odours faint, Soft, separate airs, o’er feathered grass That pass me often and repass, Like naked feet of nymphs unsandalled That tread each lawn and alley quaint. * * * * * I see not now those hills whose summits In August keep their ermined robes; But feel their freshness, know that round They gird the steely gulfs profound With feet that mock the seamen’s plummets, And foreheads crowned with starry globes.But see! vast beams divide the heaven; The orange-groves their blossoms shew; Over yon kindling deep the Moon Will lash her snowy coursers soon: Now, by her brow the east is riven! And now the west returns the glow!"