Let me too burst the leaden bands of Sleep,
And while the blinking stars, all faint and pale
With their long watch, recall their courier-rays
To their far orbits; and our earthly stars,
The stars of Fashion, sick and wan as they,
Are wheeling homeward to their feverous rest,
Let me walk forth among the silent groves,
Or through the cool vales snuff the morning air.
How fresh! how breathing! Every draught I take
Seems filled with healthiest life, and sends the blood