Not caught Ermao net

And o'er the vast dew-dripping wilderness

Of slopes illumined with her silent fires.

Then far beyond the home of pale red leaves

And silver sluices, and the shining stems

Of runnel-blooms, the dreamy wanderer saw,

The wilder for the vision of the Moon,

Stark desolations and a waste of plain

All smit by flame and broken with the storms: