And murmuring o’er the verdant turf is heard
The passing brook—or leaf by breezes stirred.
Borne on the pinions of night’s freshening air,
Unfettered thoughts with calm reflection come;
And fancy’s train, that shuns the daylight glare,
To wake when midnight shrouds the heavens in gloom;
Now tranquil joys, and hopes untouched by care,
Within my bosom throng to seek a home;
While far around the brooding darkness spreads,
And o’er the soul its pleasing sadness sheds.