ODE TO FANCY 37 1
No gorgeous landscapes as of old appear.
Seen through thy oriels, warm with rosy stain. The light that guides me now is coldly clear ; Thy glorious visions come not back again ; Their tints decay. Thy painted windows Truth hath oped so wide, That the gay colors melt on every side To leaden gray.
My castles built in air are vanishing ;
The spirit voices of the evening cease ; The sphery music will no longer ring ;
Yon bow hath broke its covenant of peace, Though radiant still. The bond 'twixt man and the immortal powers Hath g^own to be the work of sportive showers That sweep the hill.
Thine eye, averted now, no more from far
Will read my fortune in some twinkling star ;
No Naiad sports upon the flood,
The elves are banished from the wood,
No mermaids sing in coral caves,
No sea-god rides upon the waves,
And nymphs that guarded grove and rill,
And dwarfs that peopled every hill,
And knights of fairy land, and ladies gay, —
All fled ! The enchanted gardens fade away.
And only leave behind sad visions of decay.
And yet, why should I mourn, joy of my youth.
That thou hast found an enemy in Truth ?
Thine uncurbed brood, through ages drear and blind,
Have ruled as ruthless tyrants o'er mankind.
Ah, happy when, no more misled by thee.
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