作为一个从他的研究员指出,陶醉我roam Through night with its music and moonlight, And sea-sheen and foam. 'Twas Beauty herself that awoke me And whispered 'Arise, I have lit all the lamps of my palace To gladden your eyes!' I rose at her bidding, and surely 'Tis just as she said ? The moon, spilling splendour around me, Brimfull overhead; Rich perfumes from garden and garden Rare blossoms outpour; The sea, broad and bright to the skyline, Sings low to the shore. The beach, a brave riband of silver, All radiant shines, 'Twixt the white of the surf on its sea edge And the dark of the pines. And the white of the surf on its sea-edge A wonder-light gives, And the dark of the pines is the darkness Where mystery lives. Can it be that this scene goes unwitnessed Except by my eyes ? These splendours that start from the ocean And rain from the skies? Unaware of the light and the wonder, In slumber sunk deep, Young and old, they lie blind on their couches. Eyes lidded in sleep. Though pearl-tinted breakers be falling, Unvisioned they fall ? Oh Sleep! art thou jealous of Beauty To hold them in thrall? How I long for a magical bugle, Sweet-throated and clear, To sound through their slumbers and wake them, And summon them here! Then old men and young men forth-coming Would sigh their delight; And maidens, white-throated, barefooted, In garments of white; And all would speak well of the bugle, And praise its sweet sound That made them the guest-folk of Beauty In radiance gowned. Spell-bound they would stand in her presence, Souls steeped in amaze, The thrill of her magic upon them ? Sea-sheen and moonrays ? Spell-bound with the mystic enchantment, Till one in that throng, With a rapture exceeding all raptures Of passion and song, Would beget of his musing a vision As wondrous as she Who was fashioned of dream-stuff and moonlight And foam of the sea.