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And waked to music all their fountains,
Away, away, from men and towns,
Radiant Sister of the Day
Billows murmur at our feet,
P. B. Shelley
NA beautiful and bright as thou,
The loveliest and the last, is dead,
We wander'd to the Pine Forest
That skirts the Ocean's foam; The lightest wind was in its nest,
The tempest in its home. The whispering waves were half asleep,
The clouds were gone to play,
The smile of Heaven lay ;
Sent from beyond the skies,
A light of Paradise !
We paused amid the pines that stood
The giants of the waste,
As serpents interlaced,
And soothed by every azure breath
That under heaven is blown
As tender as its own :
Like green waves on the sea,
The ocean-woods may be.
How calm it was !- the silence there
By such a chain was bound, That even the busy woodpecker
Made stiller by her sound The inviolable quietness ;
The breath of peace we drew With its soft motion made not less
The calm that round us grew.
Of the wide mountain waste
A magic circle traced,
A thrilling silent life;
Our mortal nature's strife ;
The magic circle there Was one fair Form that fill'd with love
The lifeless atmosphere.
We paused beside the pools that lie
Under the forest bough ;
Gulf'd in a world below;
A firmament of purple light
Which in the dark earth lay,
And purer than the day -
As in the upper air,
Than any spreading there.
And through the dark green wood
Out of a speckled cloud.
Can never well be seen
Of that fair forest green :
With an Elysian glow,
A softer day below.
Like one beloved, the scene had lent
To the dark water's breast Its every leaf and lineament
With more than truth exprest;
Like an unwelcome thought
Blots one dear image out.
The forests ever green,
P. B. Shelley CCLXI
BY THE SEA
is a beauteous evening, calm and free;
The holy time is quiet as a nun Breathless with adoration; the broad sun Is sinking down in its tranquillity;
The gentleness of heaven is on the Sea :
Dear child ! dear girl ! that walkest with me here,
Thou liest in Abraham's bosom all the year,
TO THE EVENING STAR
TAR that bringest home the bee,
And sett'st the weary labourer free!
That send'st it from above,
Are sweet as hers we love.
Come to the luxuriant skies,