6
POLLIO:
III.The River murmurs, and the breathing GaleWhispers the gently waving Boughs among,The Star of Evening glimmers o'er the Dale,And leads the silent Host of Heaven along.
IV.How bright, emerging o'er yon broom-clad Height,The silver Empress of the Night appears!Yon limpid Pool reflects a stream of Light,And faintly in its breast the Woodland bears.
V.The Waters tumbling o'er their rocky Bed,Solemn and constant, from yon Dell resound;The lonely Hearths blaze o'er the distant Glade;The Bat, low-wheeling, skims the dusky Ground.
