Page:The Forest Sanctuary.pdf/93

So like a spirit's voice! a harping tone,
Lovely, yet ominous to mortal ear,
Such as might reach us from a world unknown,
Troubling man's heart with thrills of joy and fear!
'Twas sweet!—yet those deep southern shades oppress'd
My soul with stillness, like the calms that rest
On melancholy waves^23[1]: I sigh'd to hear
Once more earth's breezy sounds, her foliage fann’d,

And we have won a bower of refuge now,
In this fresh waste, the breath of whose repose
Hath cool'd, like dew, the fever of my brow,
And whose green oaks and cedars round me close,
As temple-walls and pillars, that exclude
Earth's haunted dreams from their free solitude;
All, save the image and the thought of those
Before us gone; our lov'd of early years,