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Dream thou then, and bind thy brow
A LAKE and a fairy boat
Thy gown should be snow-white silk,
Red rubies should deck thy hands, And diamonds should be thy dow'r But Fairies have broke their wands, And wishing has lost its pow'r !
I saw old Autumn in the misty morn
Pearling his coronet of golden corn.
Where are the songs of Summer ? — With the sun,
Where are the
prey Undazzled at noon-day, And tear with horny beak their lustrous eyes.
Where are the blooms of Summer ? — In the west,
To a most gloomy breast.
Where is the Dryad's immortality ?
In the smooth holly's green eternity.
The squirrel gloats on his accomplish'd hoard,
And honey bees have stor'd
And sighs her tearful spells
Upon a mossy stone, She sits and reckons up the dead and gone With the last leaves for a love-rosary, Whilst all the wither'd world looks drearily, Like a dim picture of the drowned past In the hush'd mind's mysterious far away, Doubtful what ghostly thing will steal the last Into that distance, grey upon
O go and sit with her, and be o'ershaded
Upon her forehead, and a face of care ;-
where To make her bower, - and enough of gloom ;