Classic Poem

" Come away from the gloom of thy dungeon forlorn,
And escape from the thraldom of sorrow and sleep:
Come, and catch the first hues on the cheek of the morn,
From the pine-covered mountain's precipitous steep:
For the lark hath its matin hymn newly begun,
And the last star that lingered hath melted away;
Every shadow falls back from the face of the sun,
And the world is awake in the fulness of day.

" Come away in the pride of my glorious noon,
And retire to some old haunted forest with me,
While the skies are unrobed, and the air is in tune
With the call of the cuckoo — the boom of the bee:
Where the brook o'er its pebbles runs drowsily by,
And green waving branches bend gracefully o'er,
In a trance of sweet thought thou shalt quietly lie,
And dream all the poet hath told thee before.

" Come away in the silence and softness of eve,
When dimly the last tints of sunset appear;
When daylight and darkness commingle, and weave
A mantle of beauty o'er mountain and mere:
When the breath of the woodbine floats richly about,
And the glow-worm begins its pale lamp to relume:
When a star here and there looketh fitfully out,
And a spirit of tenderness steals through the gloom.

" Come away while the shadowy pinions of night
Brood over the earth, like a bird in its nest;
When the mind seeks to soar to those planets of light,
Which fancy hath made the abodes of the blest.
What heart can resist the deep spell of that hour,
When the moon goeth forth on her journey above,
And the nightingale, hid in the depths of her bower,
Pours abroad her full soul in the music of love! "