Down in the Dell I Wandered

Down in the dell I wandered,
The loneliest of our dells,
Where grow the lowland lilies,
Dropping their foam-white bells,
And the brook among the grasses
Toys with its sand and shells.

Fair were the meads and thickets,
And sumptuous grew the trees,
And the folding hills of harvest
Were thrilled with the rippling breeze,
But I heard beyond the valley,
The hum of the plunging seas.

The birds and the vernal grasses,
They wooed me sweetly and long,
But the magic of ocean called me,
Murmuring free and strong,
And the voice of the peaceful valley
Mixed with the billow's song!

“Stay in the wood's embraces!
Stay in the dell's repose!”

“Float on the limitless azure,
Flecked with its foamy snows!”
These were the flattering voices,
Mingled in musical close.

Bliss in the soft, green shelter,
Fame on the boundless blue;
Free with the winds of the ages,
Nestled in shade and dew:
Which shall I yield forever?
Which shall I clasp and woo?
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