ENCHANTED.
Fire-Flies' Song.
ALL heaven was blent in that morning;
The shallop replied to your oar,
And never an accent of warning
From wave-lip or lip of the shore;
The shallop replied to your oar,
And never an accent of warning
From wave-lip or lip of the shore;
The ripples ran swift o'er the river,
The river ran slow to the Fall,
And birds with full song-throats a-quiver,
Held silence in Sycamores tall;
The river ran slow to the Fall,
And birds with full song-throats a-quiver,
Held silence in Sycamores tall;
The breath of the spring-time was sweetness,
And sweet was the hush of our dream;
One eddy in circling fleetness
Waltzed over the face of the stream,
And sweet was the hush of our dream;
One eddy in circling fleetness
Waltzed over the face of the stream,
Entranced, like the morning, we floated
Still farther and farther from shore,
The current's mad swiftness unnoted—
Unnoted the Cataract's roar.
Still farther and farther from shore,
The current's mad swiftness unnoted—
Unnoted the Cataract's roar.
(19)
