 | The Fall of the Leaf
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IV.
By thy mild beam light Fairies love to dance,
(As rosy maids in Ebwy's vale believe,)
On the torn margin of a torrent, grazed
By fearless goat;—on mountain's thymy side
To weave green circles for the shepherds;—or
To lie, the holy-bush beneath, to warn
The weary stranger o'er the pathless bog,
Against the ignis fatuus.—Echo, too,
Soothed by the azure of thy beauty, rests
Beside th' unwearied waterfall;—alone,
Silent, and pensive;—meditating where
The artless shepherd sleeps, who all the day
Had made each glen and moss-grown valley ring.
| The Fall of the Leaf
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