 | Nature-notes and impressions in prose and verse |  |
[Lead me, thou Bard of Beauty, through those caves]
Lead me, thou Bard of Beauty, through those cavesOf pale Diana! let me hear the moan
Of Ocean, sorrowing with all his waves
As once he sorrowed on that Island lone
2
The woodland paths, I seem to hear her trail
Dim raiment; her, that damsel who enslaves
My soul; that Beauty, sad, divinely pale,
That haunts thy song, mastering the gamut whole
Of dreams and music; on whose easeful breast,—
As once Endymion's head, soft-dreaming, pressed
That Indian maiden's bosom,—rests my soul.
| Nature-notes and impressions in prose and verse | |