THE FOUNTAIN. MOSES IN MIDIAN. BY MRS. L. H. SIGOURNEY. Why art thou here, amid the streams and flocks Twining bright visions round a future throne? Yet well thou seem'st content with rural charms, And when twilight grey Lureth thy lambs afold, or twinkling stars Look from their chambers on the chrystal founts With tender eye, perchance, thy hand doth sweep The solitary lyre, weaving in hues Of sable, and of gold, his wondrous fate |