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to a friend.
You have heard of those magical circles of flowers,
Which in places laid waste by the lightning are found;
Where they say that the fairies have charm'd the night hours,
With their luminous footsteps enriching the ground.
Which in places laid waste by the lightning are found;
Where they say that the fairies have charm'd the night hours,
With their luminous footsteps enriching the ground.
Believe me—the passion she cherish'd of yore,
That brought, like the storm-flash, at once on its wing
Destruction and splendor, like that hurried o'er,
And left in its track but the wild fairy-ring,–
That brought, like the storm-flash, at once on its wing
Destruction and splendor, like that hurried o'er,
And left in its track but the wild fairy-ring,–
All rife with fair blossoms of fancy and feeling,
And hope, that spring forth from the desolate gloom,
And whose breath in rich incense is softly up-stealing,
To brighten your pathway with beauty and bloom?
And hope, that spring forth from the desolate gloom,
And whose breath in rich incense is softly up-stealing,
To brighten your pathway with beauty and bloom?
