text:  I laid me down but not in sleep--and Memory flew away To mingle with the sounds and scenes the world had shown by day; Now listening to the lark she stray'd across the flowery hill Where trickles down from bowering groves the brook that turns the mill; And now she roam'd the city lanes where human tongues are loud And mix the lofty and the low amid the motley crowd Where subtle-eyed philosophy oft heaves a sigh to scan The aspiring grasp and paltry insignificance of man! 'Mid floods of light in festal halls with jewels rare bedight To music's soft and syren sounds paced damosel with knight; It seem'd as if the fiend of grief from earthly bounds was driven For there were smiles on every cheek that spake of nought but heaven; But from that gilded scene I traced the revellers one by one With sad and sunken features each unto their chambers lone; And of that gay and smiling crowd whose bosoms leapt to joy How many might there be I ween'd whom care did not annoy? Some folded up their wearied eyes to dark unhallow'd dreams-- The soldier to his scenes of blood the merchant to his schemes: Pride jealousy and slighted love robb'd woman of her rest; Revenge deceit and selfishness sway'd man's unquiet breast