VIII.

    I said I minded well the time, When first beside yon stream I stood； Then one interminable wood, In its unbounded breadth sublime, And in its loneliness profound, Spread like a leafy sea around. To one of foreign land and birth, Nursed 'mid the loveliest scenes of earth, But now from home and friends exiled, Such wilderness were doubly wild；—— I thought it so, and scarce could I My tears repress, when standing by The river's brink, I thought of mine Own native stream, the glorious Rhine！ For, near to it, with loving eye, My mother watched my infancy； 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 casement, 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 wrought, Into my soul, the spell of thought—— Of tender, pensive thought, which made Me love the forest's deepest shade, And listen, with delighted ear, To the low voice of waters near, As gliding, gushing, 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？