Close by the marge of Leman's lake,
Upon a thymy plot,
In blissful rev'rie, half awake,
Earth's follies all forgot,
I conjured up a faery isle
Where sorrow enter'd not,
Withouten shade of sin or guile--
A lovely Eden spot.
With trellis'd vines, in cool arcade,
And leaves of tender green,
All trembling in the light and shade,
As sunbeams glanced between:
The mossy turf, bespangled gay
With fragrant flowery sheen--
Bell, primrose, pink, and showers of May--
The fairest ever seen.
Near where a crystal river ran
Into the rich, warm light,
A domed palace fair began
To rise in marble white.
'Twas fill'd, as if by amulet,
With mirrors dazzling bright--
With antique vase and statuette,
A palace of delight.
And "Mignon" in a snow-white dress,
With circlet on her hair,
Appear'd in all her loveliness,
Like angel standing there.
She struck the cithern in her hand,
And sang with 'witching air
Her own sweet song, "Know'st thou the land?"
To music wild and rare.
It died away--the palace changed,
Dream-like, into a bower!
Around, the soft-eyed dun-deer ranged,
Secure from hunter's power.
Wild thyme and eye-bright tinged the ground,
With daisy, starry flower,
While crimson flower-bells cluster'd round
The rose-twined faery bower.
Therein "Undine," lovely sprite!
Sat gazing on sunrise,
And sang of "morning, clear and bright"--
The tears came in her eyes:
She look'd upon the lovely isle,
And now up to the skies,
Then in a silv'ry misty veil
She vanish'd from mine eyes.
A music, as of forest trees
Bent 'neath the storm-blast's sway,
Rose swelling--dying in the breeze,
A strange, wild lullaby.
The islet with its flowery turf
Then waxed dim and gray;
I look'd--no islet gemm'd the surf--
The dream had fled away.