178 MtSC?LLANEO US .POEMS. 'Tis he, that ever loves to hear The hurrying of th' unbridled wind, And, following on its wild career, Owns kindred wildness in his mind. He loves to gaze the Starry'sky,'" Or ocean's heaving plain to view, Where no dull barrier checks the eyk, And feels his soul as boundless too. When, round .the moon, each br6ken cloud Takes ever? hue of lightand shade, Oft tinted like the gleamy shroud Which Autumn on the woods has laid; � When, rLsing, on the distant waves A long pale line of tight she thiows, He wanders by the ocean-caves, And strange disorder'd, traus?rt kn. ows. Oft too, at eve, his eye will turn To alpine clouds amid the west, Where gorgeous colours richly bum, By the sun's parting glance imprest. ......... ?Google
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