Over spirits on the wing,
Over every drowsy thing-
And buries them up quite
In a labyrinth of light;

And then, how deep!-oh, deep
Is the passion of their sleep!

In the morning they arise,
And their moony covering
Is soaring in the skies,

With the tempests as they toss
Like-almost anything-

Or a yellow albatross.

They use that moon no more
For the same end as before-

Videlicet a tent

Which I think extravagant :
Its atomies, however,

Into a shower dissever,

Of which those butterflies
Of earth, who seek the skies,
And so come down again,
(Never-contented things!)
Have brought a specimen
Upon their quivering wings.

SONG.

I.

I SAW thee on thy bridal day,

When a burning blush came o'er thee;
Though happiness around thee lay,

The world all love before thee:

II.

And in thine eye a kindling light

(Whatever it might be)

Was all on earth my aching sight

Of loveliness could see.

III.

That blush perhaps was maiden shame,

As such it well may pass,

Though its glow hath raised a fiercer flame
In the breast of him, alas,

IV.

Who saw thee on that bridal day,

When that deep blush would come o'er thee; Though happiness around thee lay,

The world all love before thee.