VIII.

    I said I minded well the time, When first beside yon stream I stood； Then one interminable wood, In its unbounded breadth sublime¹, And in its loneliness profound, Spread like a leafy sea around. To one of foreign land and birth, Nursed 'mid² the loveliest scenes of earth, But now from home and friends exiled, Such wilderness³ were doubly wild；—— I thought it so, and scarce could I My tears repress, when standing⁴ by The river's brink⁵, I thought of mine Own native stream, the glorious Rhine！ For, near to it, with loving eye, My mother watched my infancy⁶； Along its banks my childhood strayed, With its strong waves my boyhood played. And I could see, in memory, still My father's cottage on the hill, With green vines trailing round and o'er Wall, roof and casement⁷, porch and door： Yet soon I learned yon stream to bless, And love the wooded wilderness. I could not then have told thee how The change came o'er my heart, but now I know full well the charm that wrought⁸, Into my soul, the spell of thought—— Of tender, pensive⁹ thought, which made Me love the forest's deepest shade, And listen, with delighted ear, To the low voice of waters near, As gliding¹⁰, gushing¹¹, gurgling by, They utter their sweet minstrelsy. I scarce need give that _charm_ a name； Thy heart, I know, hath felt the same,—— Ah！

    where is mind, or heart, or soul, That has not bowed to its control？