No mortal comes to visit me to-day, br br Only the gay and early-rising Sun br Who strolled in nonchalantly, just to say, br br ' Good morrow, and despair not, foolish one ! ' br But like the tune which comforted King Saul br Sounds in my brain that sunny madrigal. br br Anon the playful Wind arises, swells br Into vague music, and departing, leaves br br A sense of blue bare heights and tinkling bells, br Audible silences which sound achieves br br Through music, mountain streams, and hinted br heather, br br And drowsy flocks drifting in golden weather. br br Lastly, as to my bed I turn for rest, br Comes Lady Moon herself on silver feet br br To sit with one white arm across my breast, br Talking of elves and haunts where they do br meet.