[Greek (transliterated):

                 Kai pagas fileoimi ton enguthen aechon achthein,

                 A terpei psopheoisa ton agrikon, thchi tarassei.

  Faint gleams the evening radiance thro' the sky,

    The sober twilight dimly darkens round;

  In short quick circles the shrill bat flits by,

    And the slow vapour curls along the ground.

  Now the pleas'd eye from yon lone cottage sees

    On the green mead the smoke long-shadowing play;

    The Red-breast on the blossom'd spray

    Warbles wild her latest lay,

  And sleeps along the dale the silent breeze.

  Calm CONTEMPLATION,'tis thy favorite hour!

  Come fill my bosom, tranquillizing Power.

  Meek Power! I view thee on the calmy shore

      When Ocean stills his waves to rest;

    Or when slow-moving on the surge's hoar

    Meet with deep hollow roar

      And whiten o'er his breast;

    For lo! the Moon with softer radiance gleams,

    And lovelier heave the billows in her beams.

    When the low gales of evening moan along,

      I love with thee to feel the calm cool breeze,

    And roam the pathless forest wilds among,

      Listening the mellow murmur of the trees

    Full-foliaged as they lift their arms on high

  And wave their shadowy heads in wildest melody.

  Or lead me where amid the tranquil vale

    The broken stream flows on in silver light,

  And I will linger where the gale

    O'er the bank of violets sighs,

  Listening to hear its soften'd sounds arise;

    And hearken the dull beetle's drowsy flight,

    And watch the horn-eyed snail

    Creep o'er his long moon-glittering trail,

    And mark where radiant thro' the night

  Moves in the grass-green hedge the glow-worms living light.

    Thee meekest Power! I love to meet,

    As oft with even solitary pace

    The scatter'd Abbeys hallowed rounds I trace

  And listen to the echoings of my feet.

    Or on the half demolished tomb,

    Whole warning texts anticipate my doom:

    Mark the clear orb of night

  Cast thro' the storying glass a faintly-varied light.

  Nor will I not in some more gloomy hour

  Invoke with fearless awe thine holier power,

  Wandering beneath the sainted pile

  When the blast moans along the darksome aisle,

  And clattering patters all around

  The midnight shower with dreary sound.

      But sweeter 'tis to wander wild

      By melancholy dreams beguil'd,

      While the summer moon's pale ray

      Faintly guides me on my way

      To the lone romantic glen

      Far from all the haunts of men,

      Where no noise of uproar rude

      Breaks the calm of solitude.

      But soothing Silence sleeps in all

      Save the neighbouring waterfall,

      Whose hoarse waters falling near

      Load with hollow sounds the ear,

      And with down-dasht torrent white

      Gleam hoary thro' the shades of night.

  Thus wandering silent on and slow

  I'll nurse Reflection's sacred woe,

  And muse upon the perish'd day

  When Hope would weave her visions gay,

  Ere FANCY chill'd by adverse fate

  Left sad REALITY my mate.

  O CONTEMPLATION! when to Memory's eyes

  The visions of the long-past days arise,

  Thy holy power imparts the best relief,

  And the calm'd Spirit loves the joy of grief.