Oh! there are spirits of the air, And genii of the evening breeze, And gentle ghosts, with eyes as fair As star-beams among twilight trees:-- Such lovely ministers to meet _5 Oft hast thou turned from men thy lonely feet. With mountain winds, and babbling springs, And moonlight seas, that are the voice Of these inexplicable things, Thou didst hold commune, and rejoice _10 When they did answer thee; but they Cast, like a worthless boon, thy love away. And thou hast sought in starry eyes Beams that were never meant for thine, Another's wealth:--tame sacrifice To a fond faith! still dost thou pine? _15 Still dost thou hope that greeting hands, Voice, looks, or lips, may answer thy demands? Ah! wherefore didst thou build thine hope On the false earth's inconstancy? _20 Did thine own mind afford no scope Of love, or moving thoughts to thee? That natural scenes or human smiles Could steal the power to wind thee in their wiles? Yes, all the faithless smiles are fled _25 Whose falsehood left thee broken-hearted; The glory of the moon is dead; Night's ghosts and dreams have now departed; Thine own soul still is true to thee, But changed to a foul fiend through misery. _30 This fiend, whose ghastly presence ever Beside thee like thy shadow hangs, Dream not to chase;--the mad endeavour Would scourge thee to severer pangs. Be as thou art. Thy settled fate, Dark as it is, all change would aggravate. _35 NOTES: _1 of 1816; in 1839. _8 moonlight 1816; mountain 1839. *** TO WORDSWORTH. [Published with "Alastor", 1816.] Poet of Nature, thou hast wept to know That things depart which never may return: Childhood and youth, friendship and love's first glow, Have fled like sweet dreams, leaving thee to mourn. These common woes I feel. One loss is mine _5 Which thou too feel'st, yet I alone deplore. Thou wert as a lone star, whose light did shine On some frail bark in winter's midnight roar: Thou hast like to a rock-built refuge stood Above the blind and battling multitude: _10 In honoured poverty thy voice did weave Songs consecrate to truth and liberty,-- Deserting these, thou leavest me to grieve, Thus having been, that thou shouldst cease to be. *** FEELINGS OF A REPUBLICAN ON THE FALL OF BONAPARTE. [Published with "Alastor", 1816.]