For latitudes more bright!
How gay must be your greeting,
By southern fountains meeting,
To miss no faithful wing of all that started in your flight!

II.

Every clime and season
Fresh gladness brings to you,
Howe'er remote your social throngs
Their varied path pursue;
No winds nor waves dissever--
No dusky veil'd FOR EVER,
Frowneth across your fearless way in the empyrean blue.{A}

III.

Mates and merry brothers
Were ye in Arctic hours,
Mottling the evening beam that sloped
Adown old Gothic towers!
As blythe that sunlight dancing
Will see your pinions' glancing
Scattering afar through Tropic groves the spicy bloom in showers!

IV.

Haunters of palaced wastes!{B}
From king-forlorn Versailles
To where, round gateless Thebes, the winds
Like monarch voices wail,
Your tribe capricious ranges,
Reckless of glory's changes;
Love makes for ye a merry home amid the ruins pale.

V.

Another day, and ye
From knosp and turret's brow
Shall, with your fleet of crowding wings,
Air's viewless billows plough,
With no keen-fang'd regretting
Our darken'd hill-sides quitting,
--Away in fond companionship as cheerily as now!

VI.

Woe for the Soul-endued--
The clay-enthralled Mind--
Leaving, unlike you, favour'd birds!
Its all--its all behind.
Woe for the exile mourning,
To banishment returning--
A mateless bird wide torn apart from country and from kind!

VII.

This moment blest as ye,
Beneath his own home-trees,
With friends and fellows girt around,
Up springs the western breeze,
Bringing the parting weather--
Shall all depart together?
Ah, no!--he goes a wretch alone upon the lonely seas.

VIII.

To him the mouldering tower--
The pillar'd waste, to him
A broken-hearted music make
Until his eyelids swim.
None heeds when he complaineth,
Nor where that brow he leaneth
A mother's lips shall bless no more sinking to slumber dim.

IX.

Winter shall wake to spring,
And 'mid the fragrant g