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Pregnant with thunder, gathering far below
In solemn blackness—when thy bosom heaves
With a tumultuous bliss, and thy cheeks glow,
I will be near, and cool thy fever-flush,
And send a shivering transport to thy soul!
Chorus of Fairies
Morning awakes,
To thickets and brakes
Away we hie;
Before the day's beam,
The wan moon's gleam,
And the night—stars fly.
In deep green dells,
In the lily's bells,
We crouch all day.
But again at night,
When the stars shine bright,
