Once it smiled a silent dell

Where the people did not dwell:

They had gone unto the wars,

Trusting to the mild-eyed stars,

Nightly from their azure towers,

In the midst of which all day

The red sunlight lazily lay.

Now each visitor shall confess

The sad valley's restlessness.

Nothing there is motionless--

Nothing save the airs that brood

Over the magic solitude.

Ah, by no wind those clouds are driven

That rustle through the unquiet Heaven

Uneasily, from morn till even,

Ove the violets there that lie

In myriad types of the human eye--

Over the lilies there that wave

And weep above a nameless grave!

They wave:--from out their fragrant tops

Eternal dews come down in drops.

They weep:--from off the delicate stems

Perennial tears descend in gems.