While tearless eyes enjoy the honey-dews of sleep.[71]
A step treads lightly through the citron-shade,
Lightly, but by the rustling leaves betray’d—
Doth her young hero seek that well-known spot,
Scene of past hours that ne’er may be forgot?
’Tis he—but changed that eye, whose glance of fire
Could like a sunbeam hope and joy inspire,
As, luminous with youth, with ardour fraught,
It spoke of glory to the inmost thought:
Thence the bright spirit’s eloquence hath fled,