Classic Poem

A tryste with Morfydd true I made,
'Twas not the first, in greenwood glade,
In hope to make her flee with me;
But useless all, as you will see.
I went betimes, lest she should grieve,
Then came a mist at close of eve;
Wide o'er the path by which I passed,
Its mantle dim and murk it cast.
That mist ascending met the sky,
Forcing the daylight from my eye.
I scarce had strayed a furlong's space
When of all things I lost the trace.
Where was the grove and waving grain?
Where was the mountain, hill and main?
O ho! thou villain mist, O ho!
What plea hast thou to plague me so!
I scarcely know a scurril name,
But dearly thou deserv'st the same;
Thou exhalation from the deep
Unknown, where ugly spirits keep!
Thou smoke from hellish stews uphurl'd
To mock and mortify the world!
Thou spider-web of giant race,
Spun out and spread through airy space!
Avaunt, thou filthy, clammy thing,
Of sorry rain the source and spring!
Moist blanket dripping misery down,
Loathed alike by land and town!
Thou watery monster, wan to see,
Intruding 'twixt the sun and me,
To rob me of my blessed right,
To turn my day to dismal night.
Parent of thieves and patron best,
They brave pursuit within thy breast!
Mostly from thee its merciless snow
Grim January doth glean, I trow.
Pass off with speed, thou prowler pale,
Holding along o'er hill and dale,
Spilling a noxious spittle round,
Spoiling the fairies' sporting ground!
Move off to hell, mysterious haze;
Wherein deceitful meteors blaze;
Thou wild of vapour, vast, o'ergrown,
Huge as the ocean of unknown.
Before me all afright and fear,
Above me darkness dense and drear.
My way at weary length I found
Into a swaggy willow ground,
Where staring in each nook there stood
Of wry-mouthed elves a wrathful brood.
Full oft I sunk in that false soil,
My legs were lamed with length of toil.
However hard the case may be,
No meetings more in mist for me.