The Little Dell

Doleful was the land,

Dull on, every side,

Neither soft n'or grand,

Barren, bleak, and wide;

Nothing look'd with love;

All was dingy brown;

The very skies above

Seem'd to sulk and frown.

Plodding sick and sad,

Weary day on day;

Searching, never glad,

Many a miry way;

Poor existence lagg'd

In this barren place;

While the seasons dragg'd

Slowly o'er its face.

Spring, to sky and ground,

Came before I guess'd;

Then one day I found

A valley, like a nest!

Guarded with a spell

Sure it must have been,

This little fairy dell

Which I had never seen.

Open to the blue,

Green banks hemm'd it round

A rillet wander'd through

With a tinkling sound;

Briars among the rocks

Tangled arbours made;

Primroses in flocks

Grew beneath their shade.

Merry birds a few,

Creatures wildly tame,

Perch'd and sung and flew;

Timid field-mice came;

Beetles in the moss

Journey'd here and there;

Butterflies across

Danced through sunlit air.

There I often read,

Sung alone, or dream'd;

Blossoms overhead,

Where the west wind stream'd;

Small horizon-line,

Smoothly lifted up,

Held this world of mine

In a grassy cup.

The barren land to-day

Hears my last adieu:

Not an hour I stay;

Earth is wide and new.

Yet, farewell, farewell!

May the sun and show'rs

Bless that Little Dell

Of safe and tranquil hours!