He is an evening reveller, who makes[jz]

His life an infancy, and sings his fill;[ka] [330]

At intervals, some bird from out the brakes

Starts into voice a moment, then is still.

There seems a floating whisper on the hill,

But that is fancy—for the Starlight dews

All silently their tears of Love instil,

Weeping themselves away, till they infuse

Deep into Nature's breast the spirit of her hues.[kb]