Classic Poem

HAIL , hidden power of these wild groves,
These uncouth rocks, and mountains grey!
Where oft, as fades the closing day,
The family of Fancy roves.

In what lone cave, what sacred cell,
Coeval with the birth of Time,
Wrapt in high cares, and thought sublime,
In awful silence dost thou dwell?

Oft in the depth of Winter's reign,
As blew the bleak winds o'er the dale;
Moaning along the distant gale,
Has Fancy heard thy voice complain.

Oft in the dark wood's lonely way,
Swift has she seen thee glancing by;
Or down the summer evening sky,
Sporting in clouds of gilded day.

If caught from thee the sacred fire,
That glow'd within my youthful breast;
Those thoughts too high to be exprest,
Genius! if thou didst once inspire.

O pleas'd accept this votive lay,
That, in my native shades retir'd,
And once, once more, by thee inspir'd,
In gratitude I pay.