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 | The Sylphs of the Seasons, with other poems |  |
Then o'er the silent sleeping land,
Thy fancy, like a magick wand,
Forth call'd the Elfin race:
And now around the fountain's brim
In circling dance they gaily skim;
And now upon its surface swim,
And water-spiders chase;
Thy fancy, like a magick wand,
Forth call'd the Elfin race:
And now around the fountain's brim
In circling dance they gaily skim;
And now upon its surface swim,
And water-spiders chase;
| The Sylphs of the Seasons, with other poems | |