The bird, who ceased, with fading light, to thread Silent the hedge or steamy rivulet's bed, [92] 325 From his grey re-appearing tower shall soon Salute with gladsome note the rising moon, While with a hoary light she frosts the ground, And pours a deeper blue to Aether's bound; Pleased, as she moves, her pomp of clouds to fold 330 In robes of azure, fleecy-white, and gold. [93] Above yon eastern hill, [94] where darkness broods O'er all its vanished dells, and lawns, and woods; Where but a mass of shade the sight can trace, Even now she shows, half-veiled, her lovely face: [95] 335 Across [96] the gloomy valley flings her light, Far to the western slopes with hamlets white; And gives, where woods the chequered upland strew, To the green corn of summer, autumn's hue. Thus Hope, first pouring from her blessed horn 340 Her dawn, far lovelier than the moon's own morn, 'Till higher mounted, strives in vain to cheer The weary hills, impervious, blackening near; Yet does she still, undaunted, throw the while On darling spots remote her tempting smile. 345 Even now she decks for me a distant scene, (For dark and broad the gulf of time between) Gilding that cottage with her fondest ray, (Sole bourn, sole wish, sole object of my way; 350 How fair its lawns and sheltering [97] woods appear! How sweet its streamlet murmurs in mine ear!) Where we, my Friend, to happy [98] days shall rise, 'Till our small share of hardly-paining sighs (For sighs will ever trouble human breath) 355 Creep hushed into the tranquil breast of death. But now the clear bright Moon her zenith gains, And, rimy without speck, extend the plains: The deepest cleft the mountain's front displays [99] Scarce hides a shadow from her searching rays; 360 From the dark-blue faint silvery threads divide The hills, while gleams below the azure tide; Time softly treads; throughout the landscape breathes A peace enlivened, not disturbed, by wreaths Of charcoal-smoke, that o'er the fallen wood, 365 Steal down the hill, and spread along the flood.[100]