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TO THE HEHMIT OF THE FOREST
Oh Fontainebleau !’tis sweet to roam
Amidst thy dim, thy hallowed shades —
When’nealh thy forest’s verdant dome
The parting daylight gently fades.
Each tree, like some historic page,
Enfolds a world of bygone lore,
The legends of a former age
Inscribed upon its branches hoar.
Yet thro’the forest vast and lone
In silent grandeur nature slept,
And o’er its rocks with moss o’ergrown,
Time’s footsteps stealthily had crept.
