Ah, with this haze
Showered pearly tears their chimings merge.
Glaze
Steeps me adream, now I have gained the verge. . .
1. SONG OF THE NIGHT MISTS.
Softly, softly, let us wake not streams that in the valley sleep,
Let us with the wind dance gently o'er the spaces wide and deep.
Let us like a mighty garland round the moon ourselves entwine,
That our bodies, filled with radiance, in a rainbow-hue may shine.
Let us quaff the roar of torrents that are merged into the lake,
And the gentle noise of firs and of the pine-trees in the brake.
Balmy scent of blossoms blooming on the mountains let us drink;
Filled with music, fragrance, colour, let us rise to heaven's brink.
Softly, softly, let us wake not streams that in the valley sleep,
Let us with the wind dance gently o'er the spaces wide and deep.
