Awake, awake, ye echoes wild !
Ye caverns deep my lay prolong !
'Tis Ariel, Fancy's dearest child,
That wooes you to repeat his song.
No more the slave of magic power,
Swift fly the moments blithe and free;
And still I hail the happy hour
Which gave me joy and liberty.
In coral groves I gaily sport,
Hid in the bosom of the deep,
Where Neptune holds his festive court,
And sea-nymphs jocund revels keep:

Or through the pathless fields of air
Swifter than thought I wing my way;
To wild and distant climes repair,
Where mortal wight did never stray.
Oft have I plucked near Tenglio's stream
The blushing roses there that grow,
Or watched pale Cynthia's silver beam
Trembling on Lapland's hills of snow.
Then when she sheds her chastened day
O'er plains in frozen fetters bound,
And the soft star of eve her ray
Lends to light the fairy round,
I've sought Titania's crystal bower,
Where the light Fays obedient bring,
Mocking dull winter's icy power,
The choicest flowers of blooming spring.

But when the howling blast blows loud
And dark the misty vapours rise,
Then floating on the passing cloud
I hail the sun in happier skies.
Ere timid man had dared descry
The shores that bound the western main,
When evening breathed her softest sigh,
I've hied me to its wildest plain;
Beneath the tall magnolia's shade
Have poured the soul of music round,
Whilst breezes breathing sweetness strayed,
And stole away the witching sound.
As stretched the slumbering Indian lies
Beneath the shade of waving groves,
Softly I breathe in plaintive sighs
The magic name of her he loves.

Starting he wakes- but ah! the strain
Has died upon the breeze away;
And Fancy's power he wooes in vain
To bring again the melting lay.
The sun's last smile has gilt the wave,
The bright reflection slowly fades;
Each tint, that golden radiance gave,
Sinks fast in evening's envious shades.
I go to join the heavenly throng,
Who tune their magic harps on high,
To pour with them the thrilling song,
In notes of softest harmony.