In the sightless air I dwell,
   On the sloping sun-beams play;
Delve the cavern's inmost cell,
   Where never yet did day-light stray.

Dive beneath the green-sea waves,
   And gambol in the briny deeps;
Skim every shore that Neptune laves,
   From Lapland's plains to India's steeps.

Oft I mount with rapid force
   Above the wide earth's shadowy zone;
Follow the day-star's flaming course
   Through realms of space to thought unknown;

And listen to celestial sounds,
   That swell the air, unheard of men,
As I watch my nightly rounds
   O'er woody steep, and silent glen.

Under the shade of waving trees.
   On the green bank of fountain clear,
At pensive eve I sit at ease,
   While dying music murmurs near.

And oft, on point of airy clift,
   That hangs upon the western main,
I watch the gay tints passing swift,
   And twilight veil the liquid plain.

Then, when the breeze has sunk away,
   And ocean scarce is heard to lave,
For me the sea-nymphs softly play
   Their dulcet shells beneath the wave.

Their dulcet shells! I hear them now;
   Slow swells the strain upon mine ear;
Now faintly falls---now warbles low,
   'Till rapture melts into a tear.

The ray that silvers o'er the dew,
   And trembles through the leafy shade,
And tints the scene with softer hue,
   Calls me to rove the lonely glade;

Or hie me to some ruin'd tow'r,
   Faintly shewn by moon-light gleam,
Where the lone wand'rer owns my pow'r
   In shadows dire that substance seem;

In thrilling sounds that murmur woe,
   And pausing silence makes more dread;
In music breathing from below
   Sad, solemn Strains, that wake the dead.

Unseen I move---unknown am fear'd!
   Fancy's wildest dreams I weave;
And oft by bards my voice is heard
   To die along the gales of eve."