 | The Poetical Works of Robert Story |  |
I
Reflected light, as if from water cast,On the Cave's vault of stone was quivering fast,
And the fresh fall and flow of water near
Was murmuring and dashing in mine ear,
When I from sleep awoke, and looking through
The screen of hazel, I beheld a view
Of sylvan sweetness. Morning's glorious beam
Was on the pool, and on the falling stream,
And, as the whitely-dashing spray it kissed,
Made shifting rainbows of the rising mist!
Each tree hung out its branches all unstirred
In the calm air; each branch sustained a bird,
That sat and sung; each green leaf in its curl
Held drops of dew—each drop a trembling pearl!
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With the blue sky o'er all, a picture made,
Which, in the faithful glass of Memory set,
Is gay and green, is fresh and sparkling yet!
| The Poetical Works of Robert Story | |