Soothing.

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.