The Meeting

OnceI lay beside a fountain, Lulled me with its gentle song, And my thoughts o'er dale and mountain With the clouds were borne along.

There I saw old castles flinging Shadowy gleams on moveless seas, Saw gigantic forests swinging To and fro without a breeze;

And in dusky alleys straying, Many a giant shape of power, Troops of nymphs in sunshine playing, Singing, dancing, hour on hour.

I, too, trod these plains Elysian, Heard their ringing tones of mirth, But a brighter, fairer vision Called me back again to earth.

From the forest shade advancing, See, where comes a lovely May; The dew, like gems, before her glancing, As she brushes it away!

StraightI rose, and ran to meet her, Seized her hand--the heavenly blue Of her eyes smiled brighter, sweeter, As she asked me--"Who are you?"

To that question came another-- What its aim I still must doubt-- And she asked me, "How's your mother? Does she know that you are out?"

"No! my mother does not know it, Beauteous, heaven-descended muse!" "Then be off, my handsome poet, And say I sent you with the news!"