Song

Where, from the eye of day, The dark and silent river Pursues through tangled woods a way O'er which the tall trees quiver; The silver mist, that breaks From out that woodland cover, Betrays the hidden path it takes, And hangs the current over! So oft the thoughts that burst From hidden springs of feeling, Like silent streams, unseen at first, From our cold hearts are stealing: But soon the clouds that veil The eye of Love, when glowing, Betray the long unwhispered tale Of thoughts in darkness flowing!