In autumn moonlight, when the white air wan <br />Is fragrant in the wake of summer hence, <br />'Tis sweet to sit entranced, and muse thereon <br />In melancholy and godlike indolence: <br />When the proud spirit, lull'd by mortal prime <br />To fond pretence of immortality, <br />Vieweth all moments from the birth of time, <br />All things whate'er have been or yet shall be. <br />And like the garden, where the year is spent, <br />The ruin of old life is full of yearning, <br />Mingling poetic rapture of lament <br />With flowers and sunshine of spring's sure returning; <br />Only in visions of the white air wan <br />By godlike fancy seized and dwelt upon.<br /><br />Robert Seymour Bridges<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/in-autumn-moonlight-when-the-white-air-wan/
