Poems by Felicia Dorothea Browne/Song of a Wood Nymph

by Felicia Hemans

SONG OF A WOOD NYMPH.

In peaceful dells and woodland glades,
    In sweet romantic scenes I stray;
And wander thro' the sylvan shades,
    Where summer breezes lightly play;
        There at fervid noon I lave,
        In the calm pellucid wave.

And oft the fairest flowers I bring,
    To deck my grotto's mossy seat,
Cull'd from the margin of the spring,
    That flows amidst the green retreat;
        The violet, and the primrose pale,
        That smile uncultur'd in the vale.

Reclin'd beneath some hoary tree,
    With tufted moss and ivy drest,
I listen to the humming bee,
    Whose plaintive tune invites to rest;
        While the fountain calm and clear,
        Softly murmurs playing near.

And oft in solitude I rove,
    To hear the bird of eve complain;
When seated in the hallow'd grove,
    She pours her melancholy strain,
        In soothing tones that wake the tear,
        To sorrow and to fancy dear.

I love the placid moonlight hour,
    The lustre of the shadowy ray;
'Tis then I seek the dewy bower,
    And tune the wild expressive lay;
        While echo from the woods around,
        Prolongs the softly dying sound.

And oft, in some arcadian vale,
    I touch my harp of mellow note;
Then sweetly rising on the gale,
    I hear celestial music float;
        And dulcet measures faintly close,
        Till all is silence and repose.

Then fays and fairy elves advance,
    To hear the magic of my song;
And mingle in the sportive dance,
    And trip with sylphid grace along;
        While the pensive ray serene,
        Trembles thro' the foliage green.

In peaceful dells and woodland shades,
    In wild romantic scenes I stray;
And wander thro' the sylvan glades,
    With airy footstep light and gay:
        Yet still my favourite lonely spot,
        The sweet retirement of the grot.