That floating dimly to the musing eye,
Assume, at Fancy’s touch, fantastic shew,
And raise her sweet romantic visions high.
Then let me stand amidst thy glooms profound
On some wild woody steep, and hear the breeze
That swells in mournful melody around,
And faintly dies upon the distant trees.
What melancholy charm steals o’er the mind!
What hallow’d tears the rising rapture greet!
While many a viewless Spirit in the wind