Of lonely Fear, disquieted in vain;
Its phantoms hung around the star of morn,
A cloud-like, weeping train:
Thro’ the long day they dimm’d the autumn gold
On all the glistening leaves, and wildly roll’d,
When the last farewell flush of light was glowing
Across the sunset sky,
O’er its rich isles of vaporous glory throwing
One melancholy dye.
And when the solemn night