I seem to lie with drooping eyes, Dreaming sweet dreams, Half longings and half memories, In woods where streams With trembling shades and whirling gleams, Many and bright, In song and light, Are ever, ever flowing; While the wind, if we list to the rustling grass, Which numbers his footsteps as they pass, Seems scarcely to be blowing; And the far-heard voice of Spring, From sunny slopes comes wandering, Calling the violets from the sleep, That bound them under snow-drifts deep, To open their childlike, asking eyes On the new summer's paradise, And mingled with the gurgling waters-- As the dreamy witchery Of Acheloüs' silver-voiced daughters Rose and fell with the heaving sea, Whose great heart swelled with ecstasy-- The song of many a floating bird, Winding through the rifted trees, Is dreamily half-heard-- A sister stream of melodies Rippled by the flutterings Of rapture-quivered wings. II. And now beside a cataract I lie, and through my soul, From over me and under, The never-ceasing thunder Arousingly doth roll; Through the darkness all compact, Through the trackless sea of gloom, Sad and deep I hear it boom; At intervals the cloud is cracked And a livid flash doth hiss Downward from its floating home, Lighting up the precipice And the never-resting foam With a dim and ghastly glare, Which, for a heart-beat, in the air, Shows the sweeping shrouds Of the midnight clouds And their wildly-scattered hair. III. Now listening to a woman's tone, In a wood I sit alone-- Alone because our souls are one;-- All around my heart it flows, Lulling me in deep repose; I fear to speak, I fear to move, Lest I should break the spell I love-- Low and gentle, calm and clear, Into my inmost soul it goes, As if my brother dear, Who is no longer here, Had bended from the sky And murmured in my ear A strain of that high harmony, Which they may sing alone Who worship round the throne. IV. Now in a fairy boat, On the bright waves of song, Full merrily I float, Merrily float along; My helm is veered, I care not how, My white sail bellies over me, And bright as gold the ripples be That plash beneath the bow; Before, behind, They feel the wind, And they are dancing joyously-- While, faintly heard, along the far-off shore The surf goes plunging with a lingering roar; Or anchored in a shadowy cove, Entranced with harmonies, Slowly I sink and rise As the slow waves of music move. V.