Now the bat circles on the breeze of eve, That creeps, in shuddering fits, along the wave, And trembles 'mid the woods, and through the cave Whose lonely sighs the wanderer deceive; For oft, when melancholy charms his mind, He thinks the Spirit of the rock he hears, Nor listens, but with sweetly-thrilling fears, To the low, mystic murmurs of the wind! Now the bat circles; and the twilight-dew Falls silent round, and, o'er the mountain-cliff, The gleaming wave and far-discovered skiff, Spreads the gray veil of soft, harmonious hue. So falls o'er grief the dew of pity's tear Dimming her lonely visions of despair. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SUN GOD by AUBREY THOMAS DE VERE ON A CURATE'S COMPLAINT OF HARD DUTY by JONATHAN SWIFT AN EPISTLE TO CURIO by MARK AKENSIDE THE NURSE'S STORY: THE HAND OF GLORY by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM THE BODING DREAMS by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |