 | The vision of Cortes, Cain, and other poems |  |
[Moonlight is down among the pleasant hills]
Moonlight is down among the pleasant hills,And looking on the waters—let me go—
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Of beauty, all the free empyreal, fills—
The city is behind me—it is bright,
So liberal and and so lavish is the night,
As conscious of her riches, she bestows
Her wealth in wide profusion, where she goes—
Downwards, the shadows of the houses, cast,
Are sick, with the gay loveliness of night,
And as her living beams are rushing past,
How do they shrink before her fairy light.
Let me go forth—for this must be the hour,
When gentle spirits walk, and fairy forms have pow'r.
| The vision of Cortes, Cain, and other poems | |