... murmurs sweet and wild, From out a fount where starlight gleam | Had found a happy home, like dream In bosom of a sleeping child. The mountain ash, with clusters red, Hung, like affection, o’er my head, And darken’d with its chequer’d shade The fount where living waters play’d. Bright dewy wild-flowers there were grow- ing, Likehappy thingsby that stream’s side, And seem’d to listen to it ...