SONNET ON HEARING THE SOUNDS OF AN ÆOLIAN HARP.

So ravishingly soft upon the tide

Of the infuriate gust, it did career,

It might have soothed its rugged charioteer,

And sunk him to a zephyr; then it died,

Melting in melody;— and I descried,

Borne to some wizard stream, the form appear

Of Druid sage, who on the far-off ear

Pour'd his lone song, to which the surge replied:

Or thought I heard the hapless pilgrim's knell,

Lost in some wild enchanted forest's bounds,

By unseen beings sung; or are these sounds

Such as,‘ tis said, at night are known to swell

By startled shepherd on the lonely heath,

Keeping his night-watch sad, portending death?