Wakening, it might be, to the faint, sad sound,
That from the darkness of the walls they brought
A loved scene round me, visibly around.[301]
Yes! kindling, spreading, brightening, hue by hue,
Like stars from midnight, through the gloom, it grew,
That haunt of youth, hope, manhood!—till the bound
Of my shut cavern seem’d dissolved, and I
Girt by the solemn hills and burning pomp of sky.
XI.
I look’d—and lo! the clear, broad river flowing