And fairest visions float through Fancy’s fane,
Caught from the soul’s illuminated shrine;
Elysian forms, that purer realms retain,
Thoughts of the blest, ethereal, and divine.
Earth too is mingling with her mortal hours,
The touching softness of her gentle things;
And Love—deep-gushing Love—with winged powers,
Chimes with the ecstacy each wild note brings.
Hast thou not sounds to rouse the soul to madness,
To flattering joys—emotions long enshrined;