VI.

From the wreck of the past, which hath perished,[x] Thus much I at least may recall, It hath taught me that what I most cherished Deserved to be dearest of all: In the Desert a fountain is springing,[y][81] In the wide waste there still is a tree, And a bird in the solitude singing, Which speaks to my spirit of _Thee_.[82]

_July_ 24, 1816.

[First published, _Prisoner of Chillon_, etc., 1816.]

EPISTLE TO AUGUSTA.[83]