VOICES OF THE NIGHT. PRELUDE. PLEASANT it was, when woods were green, And winds were soft and low, To lie amid some sylvan scene, Where, the long drooping boughs between, Or when the denser grove receives Beneath some patriarchal tree With one continuous sound; A slumberous sound,-a sound that brings The feelings of a dream,— As of innumerable wings, As, when a bell no longer swings, A |