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Felicia Dorothea Hemans - An Hour Of Romance
Work rating: Low

There were thick leaves above me and around,
  And low sweet sighs like those of childhood`s sleep,
Amidst their dimness, and a fitful sound
  As of soft showers on water; dark and deep
Lay the oak shadows o`er the turf, so still
They seem`d but pictured glooms: a hidden rill
Made music, such as haunts us in a dream,
Under the fern-tufts; and a tender gleam

Of soft green light, as by the glow-worm shed,
  Came pouring thro` the woven beech-boughs down,
And steep`d the magic page wherein I read
  Of royal chivalry and old renown,
A tale of Palestine. Meanwhile the bee
  Swept past me with a tone of summer hours,
  A drowsy bugle, wafting thoughts of flowers,
Blue skies, and amber sunshine: brightly free,
On filmy wings the purple dragon-fly
Shot glancing like a fairy javelin by;
And a sweet voice of sorrow told the dell
  Where sat the lone wood-pigeon:
                                            But ere long,
All sense of these things faded, as the spell
  Breathing from that high gorgeous tale grew strong
On my chain`d soul: `twas not the leaves I heard
A Syrian wind the Lion-banner stirr`d,
Thro` its proud, floating folds: `twas not the brook,
  Singing in secret thro` its grassy glen;
  A wild shrill trumpet of the Saracen
Peal`d from the desert`s lonely heart, and shook
The burning air. Like clouds when winds are high,
O`er glittering sands flew steeds of Araby,
And tents rose up, and sudden lance and spear
Flash`d where a fountain`s diamond wave lay clear,
Shadow`d by graceful palm-trees. Then the shout
Of merry England`s joy swell`d freely out,
Sent thro` an eastern heaven, whose glorious hue
Made shields dark mirrors to its depths of blue:
And harps were there; I heard their sounding strings,
As the waste echoed to the mirth of kings.
The bright masque faded. Unto life`s worn track,
What call`d me from its flood of glory, back?
A voice of happy childhood! and they pass`d,
Banner, and harp, and Paynim`s trumpet`s blast;
Yet might I scarce bewail the splendours gone,
My heart so leap`d to that sweet laughter`s tone.
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