The Fire-Flies

I SEE them glimmer where the waters lag
By winding bays, and to the willows sing ;
And, far away, where stands the forest dim,
Huge-built of old, their tremulous lights are seen.
High overhead they gleam like trailing stars,
Then sink adown, until their emerald sheen
Dies in the darkness like an evening hymn,
Anon to float again in glorious bars
Of streaming rapture, such as man may hear
When the soul casts its slough of mortal fear.
And now they make rich spangles in the grass,
Gilding the night-dew on the tender blade ;
Then hover o'er the meadow-pools, to gaze
At their bright forms shrined in the dreamy glass
Which earth, and air, and bounteous rain have made.
One moment, and the thicket is ablaze
With twinkling lamps, which swing from bough to bough ;
Another, and like sylphids they descend
To cheer the brook-side where the bell-flowers grow.
Near, and more near, they softly come, until
Their little life is busy at my feet ;
They glow around me, and my fancies blend
Capriciously with their delight, and fill
My wakeful bosom with unwonted heat.

One lights upon my hand, and there I clutch
With an alarming finger its quick wing ;
Erstwhile so free, it pants, the tender thing !
And dreads its captor and his handsel touch.

Where is thy home ? On what strange food dost feed,
Thou fairy hunter of the moonless night ?

From what far nectar'd fount, or flovv'ry mead,
Glean'st thou, by witching spells, thy sluicy light?