Hyperion

enetian blinds closed. Here and there a long streak of sunshine streams in through a crevice. We hear the low sound of the wind among the trees; and, as it swells and freshens, the distant

pendulous branches almost to the ground. White clouds sail aloft; and vapors fret the blue sky with silver threads. The white village gleams afar against the dark hills. Through the meadow winds the river,--car

cs. Ye denizens of the crowded city, how pleasant to you is the change from the sultry streets to the open fields, fragrant with clover-blossoms! h

d. Like black hulks, the shadows of the great trees ride at anchor on the billowy sea of grass. I cannot see the red and blue flowers, but I know that they are there. Far away in the meadow gleams the silver Charles. The tramp of horses'

way, with some beloved spirit clasped in its embrace. The lamps are still burning up and down the long street. People go by, with grotesque shadows, now foreshortened and now lengthening away into the darkness and vanishing, while a new one springs up behind the walker, and seems to pass him on the sidewalk. The iron gates of the park shut with a jangling clang. Ther

onward into the enchanted land, as through the Ivory Gate of dreams! And as a prelude and majestic march, one sweet human

en Evening!

e storm-dis

e triple r

mountain tops

ceases; bold

shoots from

he sun; on p

c is love

hy stand, my

f shadows a

how calml

ike saints i

in solitu

muse on Nat

e passing f

gh the sil

oment, cras

ipice to

nche's r

he nether

e; the e

e uproar t

ho, groan

to deep,

ain the dar

t may be fel

-clouded e

t spectre o

ipse she li

e host of he

aint semblan

awakeni

ouch, these A

ockeries

shadows, ghas

she climbs

f apparit

reath in ch

so exquisi

should van

again, I fr

s Lake, once

crescent f

ful as Di

land that g

y waves ref

tself, brought

irer tha

y banks aga

e of poes

here at d

mountains

strange muta

feats of

t fairy lan

I seek,