Then, as I follow through the azure void, His partial splendour from my straining eye Sinks in the depth of space; my only guide His faint ray dawning on the farthest sky;Save that sweet, lingering strain of gayer Hours, Whose close my voice prolongs in dying notes, While mortals on the green earth own its pow'rs, As downward on the evening gale it floats.
When fades along the West the Sun's last beam, As, weary, to the nether world he goes, And mountain-summits catch the purple gleam, And slumbering ocean faint and fainter glows, Silent upon the globe's broad shade I steal, And o'er its dry turf shed the cooling dews, And ev'ry fever'd herb and flow'ret heal, And all their fragrance on the air diffuse.
Where'er I move, a tranquil pleasure reigns;O'er all the scene the dusky tints I send, That forests wild and mountains, stretching plains And peopled towns, in soft confusion blend.
Wide o'er the world I waft the fresh'ning wind, Low breathing through the woods and twilight vale, In whispers soft, that woo the pensive mind Of him, who loves my lonely steps to hail.
His tender oaten reed I watch to hear, Stealing its sweetness o'er some plaining rill, Or soothing ocean's wave, when storms are near, Or swelling in the breeze from distant hill!
I wake the fairy elves, who shun the light;When, from their blossom'd beds, they slily peep, And spy my pale star, leading on the night,--Forth to their games and revelry they leap;Send all the prison'd sweets abroad in air, That with them slumber'd in the flow'ret's cell;Then to the shores and moon-light brooks repair, Till the high larks their matin-carol swell.
The wood-nymphs hail my airs and temper'd shade, With ditties soft and lightly sportive dance, On river margin of some bow'ry glade, And strew their fresh buds as my steps advance:
But, swift I pass, and distant regions trace, For moon-beams silver all the eastern cloud, And Day's last crimson vestige fades apace;Down the steep west I fly from Midnight's shroud.
The moon was now rising out of the sea.She watched its gradual progress, the extending line of radiance it threw upon the waters, the sparkling oars, the sail faintly silvered, and the wood-tops and the battlements of the watch-tower, at whose foot she was sitting, just tinted with the rays.Emily's spirits were in harmony with this scene.As she sat meditating, sounds stole by her on the air, which she immediately knew to be the music and the voice she had formerly heard at midnight, and the emotion of awe, which she felt, was not unmixed with terror, when she considered her remote and lonely situation.The sounds drew nearer.She would have risen to leave the place, but they seemed to come from the way she must have taken towards the chateau, and she awaited the event in trembling expectation.The sounds continued to approach, for some time, and then ceased.Emily sat listening, gazing and unable to move, when she saw a figure emerge from the shade of the woods and pass along the bank, at some little distance before her.It went swiftly, and her spirits were so overcome with awe, that, though she saw, she did not much observe it.
Having left the spot, with a resolution never again to visit it alone, at so late an hour, she began to approach the chateau, when she heard voices calling her from the part of the wood, which was nearest to it.They were the shouts of the Count's servants, who were sent to search for her; and when she entered the supper-room, where he sat with Henri and Blanche, he gently reproached her with a look, which she blushed to have deserved.
This little occurrence deeply impressed her mind, and, when she withdrew to her own room, it recalled so forcibly the circumstances she had witnessed, a few nights before, that she had scarcely courage to remain alone.She watched to a late hour, when, no sound having renewed her fears, she, at length, sunk to repose.But this was of short continuance, for she was disturbed by a loud and unusual noise, that seemed to come from the gallery, into which her chamber opened.