A golden palace in all solitude,

Whither the strains of quiet melodies

Float on the breath of memory, like songs

From the dim bosom of the evening woods,

Peopling its chambers with sweet poesy?

Hast thou not called the sunshine from the morn

To circle thee with a pure spirit life,

And with the softness of its tender arms

Clasp thee in the embrace of heav'nly love?

Hast thou not heard the music of the stars,

In the calm stillness of the summer night,

And read their jewell'd pages o'er and o'er,

Like the bright inspirations of a bard,

Till glowing strophes rung within thy soul

Of glad Orion and clear Pleiades?

Hast thou not seen the silv'ry moonshine thrill

Upon the dusky mantle of the night,

Like radiant glances through a maiden's veil,

Till shaken thence they fell in a pure shower

[Pg 5]

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