The one only dwelling on earth which she loves.
’Tis a note of enchantment; what ails her? she sees
A mountain ascending, a vision of trees;
Bright volumes of vapour through Lothbury glide,
And a river flows on through the vale of Cheapside.
She looks, and her heart is in heaven: but they fade—
The mist and the river, the hill, sun, and shade;
The stream will not flow, and the hill will not rise,
And the colours have all passed away from her eyes.
