“Let me then bear the burden of my bliss
To some deep grove that oft hath veil’d my grief;
There let me roam in solitude: no eye
Shall then recall the triumph undeserved.
And if some shining fountain suddenly
On its clear mirror to my sight should give
The form of one who, strangely, brightly crown’d,
Seems musing in the blue reflected heaven,
As it streams down through rocks and parted trees,
Then will I dream that on the enchanted wave