Would soothe their souls, with multifarious song,
Singing his farewell-hymns to dying Day,
As fade his smiles the darkening glades along;
And when the frowns of night more thickly throng,
The amorous firefly led them at that hour,
O'er wooded hills, and marshes deep and long,
To their sweet rest, which sank, with grateful power,
Along their wearied nerves, in their wild, oaken bower.
As flows the stream, with calm, unruffled wave,
O'er shining sands, to kiss the glassy main,