Classic Poem

I love upon a stormy night
To hear those fits of slender song
Which through the woods and open plains,
Among the clouds or in the rains,
The loud winds bear along.

Then do I love to stand alone
By some huge rock or tree defended,
To stand like one that's blind, and catch
Of those small strains the last faint snatch
For human ears intended.

But sweeter when the moon shines bright
And the clear sky in calm blue weather
With rocks and woods and with the green
Of a small meadow makes a scene
Of earth and heaven together.

But sweeter then when you could hear,
Almost could hear a falling feather,
To listen to that music small
Prolonged through many a madrigal
For half an hour together.

But you will say how can this be?
I'll tell you, for the truth I know;
Above the ocean's foaming waves,
Through hollow woods and gloomy caves,
A thousand beings come and go.

I've heard them many and many a time,
A thing you'll say that's past conceiving,
Over the green and open lands,
And o'er the bare and yellow sands,
Their airy dances weaving.

'Tis not for one like me to tell
Their shape, their colour, and their size,
But they are thin and very spare,
Beings far thinner than the air,
And happier than the summer flies.

And often too by lake or grove
Have I beheld, from time to time,
A troop of tiny spirits fair,
All glistening like the moonlight air
Or sparkles in the frosty rime.

Oft have I seen in glade or bower
Sweet shapes upon the moonlight ground,
Some here, as little fairies small,
Some there, as human beings tall,
All dancing round and round.