V.

When evening’s dusky car Crowned with her dewy star Steals o’er the fading sky in shadowy flight; On leaves of aspen trees We tremble to the breeze, Veiled from the grosser ken of mortal sight. Or, haply at the visionary hour, Along our wild sequestered walk, We listen to th’ enamoured rustic’s talk; Heave with the heavings of the maiden’s breast, Where young-eyed loves have built their turtle nest; Or guide of soul-subduing power Th’ electric flash, that from the melting eye Darts the fond question and the soft reply.