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TALE OF THE 14TH CENTURY.
For oh! those transient gleams of heaven,
To calmer, purer spirits given,
Children of hallowed peace, are known
In solitude and shade alone!
Like flowers that shun the blaze of noon,
To blow beneath the midnight moon,
The garish world they will not bless,
But only live in loneliness!
Hark! did some note of plaintive swell
Melt on the stillness of the air?
Or was it fancy's powerful spell
That woke such sweetness there?
For wild and distant it arose,
Like sounds that bless the bard's repose,
When in lone wood, or mossy cave
He dreams beside some fountain-wave,
And fairy worlds delight the eyes,
Wearied with life's realities.
