On which the stars are clustering, with the night;
And while they view, with soul-admiring glance,
The world of fancy, nature, and romance,
That circles round their native rocks, they deem
The glories of the earth an empty dream.
But hark! that horn again resounds aloud,
Like sudden music bursting from a cloud:
"Good night!" "Good night!" along the mountain breaks,
"Good night!" "Good night!" again each echo wakes;
And all the scene, below, around, above,