The Fall of the Leaf :: :: University of Virginia Library

Avon and Usk, the Towy, and the Cam,
Isis and Trent, green Medway, and the stream,
That winds Langollen's lovely vale along,
To view thy form reflected!—Often have I stray'd
Beneath the shade of venerable piles,
Netley, or Strata Florida, the walls
Of sacred Tintern, or the moss-grown abbey,
Bosom'd in mountains, near the winding banks
Of “wizard Dee;”—in silence to reflect,
How calm and constant thou pursu'st thy course,
Unheeding of man's passions!—As I've paused—
A fragrant balm has visited my heart,
Stealing a character from Paradise,
Which soothed my soul, and “wing'd it to the skies.”—
Where in the volume of thy wandering globe,
Names are inscribed of those, who, deep retired,
Through optic glass, beheld thy liquid zones,
Thy streams and mountains;—where at times is seen,
Circling thy space, a party-colour'd crown,
Like aureolas on the sacred head
Of saint or martyr;—and where oft appears
Refracted and reflected in the drops,
That lightly fall from heaven, the midnight bow,
Arching the deep horizon;—while the cot,
O'er which it rises in magnificence

Solemn and sacred, from the falling rain
Protects the weary woodman, as he sleeps
Secure,—unheeding of impending storms.