For tidings from a distant land;
But ah! I shudder’d while I read,
It told me one I loved—was dead!
The falling of a far cascade
Most sweet, harmonious music made;
It charm’d me oft at evening-tide,
And once, by moonlight, there I hied;
But, when I reach’d the chosen spot,
The louder music pleased me not;
’Tis thus with many things I meet,