Observations placeholder

        To Anna (Probably 1795. Text of 1818) 

        Was it some sweet device of Faery
        That mocked my steps with many a lonely glade,
        And fancied wanderings with a fair-hair'd maid?
        Have these things been? or what rare witchery,
        Impregning with delights the charmed air,
        Enlighted up the semblance of a smile
        In those fine eyes? methought they spake the while
        Soft soothing things, which might enforce despair
        To drop the murdering knife, and let go by
        His foul resolve. And does the lonely glade
        Still court the foot-steps of the fair-hair'd maid?
        Still in her locks the gales of summer sigh?
        While I forlorn do wander reckless where,
        And 'mid my wanderings meet no Anna there. 

        Methinks how dainty sweet it were, reclin'd
        Beneath the vast out-stretching branches high
        Of some old wood, in careless sort to lie,
        Nor of the busier scenes we left behind
        Aught envying. And, O Anna! mild-eyed maid!
        Beloved! I were well content to play
        With thy free tresses all a summer's day,
        Losing the time beneath the greenwood shade.
        Or we might sit and tell some tender tale
        Of faithful vows repaid by cruel scorn,
        A tale of true love, or of friend forgot;
        And I would teach thee, lady, how to rail
        In gentle sort, on those who practise not
        Or love or pity, though of woman born. 

        O! I could laugh to hear the midnight wind,
        That, rushing on its way with careless sweep,
        Scatters the ocean waves. And I could weep
        Like to a child. For now to my raised mind
        On wings of winds comes wild-eyed Phantasy,
        And her rude visions give severe delight.
        O winged bark! how swift along the night
        Pass'd thy proud keel! nor shall I let go by
        Lightly of that drear hour the memory,
        When wet and chilly on thy deck I stood,
        Unbonnetted, and gazed upon the flood,
        Even till it seemed a pleasant thing to die,--
        To be resolv'd into th' elemental wave,
        Or take my portion with the winds that rave.