Classic Poem

I STRAYED at evening to a sylvan scene
Dimpling with nature's smile the stern old mountain,
A shady dingle, quiet, cool, and green,
Where the moss'd rock poured forth its natural fountain,
And hazels clustered there, with fern between,
And feathery meadow-sweet shed perfume round,
And the pink crocus pierced the jewelled ground;
Then was I calm and happy: for the voice
Of nightingales unseen in tremulous lays
Taught me with innocent gladness to rejoice,
And turned my spirit to unformal praise!
So among silvered moths, and closing flowers,
Gambolling hares, and rooks returning home,
And strong wing'd chafers setting out to roam,
In careless peace I passed the soothing hours.