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SONGS OF THE PIXIES.
21
O'er his hush'd soul our soothing witch'ries shed,
And twine our faery garlands round his head.
V.
Crown'd with her dewy star
Steals o'er the fading sky in shadowy flight;
On leaves of aspen trees
We tremble to the breeze
Veil'd from the grosser ken of mortal sight.
Or, haply, at the visionary hour,
Along our wildly-bow'rd, sequestered walk,
We listen to th' enamour'd rustic's talk;
Heave with the heavings of the maiden's breast,
Where young-eyed Loves have built their turtle nest;
Or guide of soul-subduing power
C 3
