Trudging through a gloomy glade,
From foggy mists in woodland shade.
Beneath a bright mid summer twilight,
Devoid of all earthly passion to ignite.
I seek the thing to rouse my soul
Bring blazing fire from ashen coal.

Treasured quarry I will have you soon
I shall hunt the muses with my harpoon.
Six maidens, I spied through the glen.
how sweetly then the ladies beckened
bathed in over-flowing lunar gleam,
half remembered in a peculiar dream.

The maidens lurked in shaded cluster.
Radiant ecstasy, bathed in golden lustre....