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Of autumn, which now hung o'er all
The scene their leaden, dropping pall,
Beneath whose dark gray veils, once more
We hailed our native Albion's shore,
Our pilgrimage of pleasure o'er.
The scene their leaden, dropping pall,
Beneath whose dark gray veils, once more
We hailed our native Albion's shore,
Our pilgrimage of pleasure o'er.
LINES FOR MUSIC.
Good night! from music's softest spell
Go to thy dreams: and in thy slumbers,
Fairies, with magic harp and shell,
Sing o'er to thee thy own sweet numbers.
Go to thy dreams: and in thy slumbers,
Fairies, with magic harp and shell,
Sing o'er to thee thy own sweet numbers.
Good night! from Hope's intense desire
Go to thy dreams: and may to-morrow,
Love with the sun returning, fire
These evening mists of doubt and sorrow.
Go to thy dreams: and may to-morrow,
Love with the sun returning, fire
These evening mists of doubt and sorrow.
Good night! from hours of weary waking
I'll to my dreams: still in my sleep
To feel the spirit's restless aching,
And ev'n with eyelids closed, to weep.
I'll to my dreams: still in my sleep
To feel the spirit's restless aching,
And ev'n with eyelids closed, to weep.
