THE ZEPHYR.
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come, come--from my secret cave, Beyond the roar of the ocean-waye- Over the plain,

 And over the deep,

 My silver wings

 Tn silence sweep:

 kiss the fountain--

 climb the mountain

 l cool the bower

 l fan the flower

 And on the breast

 Of the gentle Till

 And on the top

 Ofthe cloud-capt hill, take my slow and silent flight In the noontide hour, or dead of night, And stream, and flood, and forest, and field, Ever to my mild dominion yield; But whence come or where l go, 'Tis not for mortals on earth to know.