I Aimless Wandered Thro' The Woods, And Flung My Idle Limbs Upon A Soft Brown Bank, Where, Thickly Strewn, The Worn-Out Russet Leaves Rustled A Faint Remonstrance At My Tread. The Yellow Fungi, Shewing Pallid Stems, The Mossy Lichen Creeping O'Er The Stones And Making Green The Whitened Hemlock-Bark, The Dull Wax Of The Woodland Lily-Bud, On These My Eye Could Rest, And I Was Still. No Sound Was There Save A Low Murmured Cheep From An Ambitious Nestling, And The Slow And Oft-Recurring Plash Of Myriad Waves That Spent Their Strength Against The Unheeding Shore. Over And Through A Spreading Undergrowth I Saw The Gleaming Of The Tranquil Sea. The Woody Scent Of Mosses And Sweet Ferns, Mingled With The Fresh Brine, And Came To Me, Bringing A Laudanum To My Ceaseless Pain; A Quietness Stole In Upon Me Then, And O'Er My Soul There Passed A Wave Of Peace.