A Pool Among The Rocks

I know a pool, whose crystalline repose Sleeps under walls of granite, whence the pine Leans looking at its image, line for line Repeated with the sumach and wild-rose That redden on the rocks; where, at day's close, The sunset dreams, and lights incarnadine Dark waters and the place seems brimmed with wine, A giant cup that splendour overflows. Night, in her livery of stars and moon, Stoops to its mirror, gazing steadily; And, saddened by her beauty, drops one tear, A falling star; while round it sighs the rune Of winds, conspirators that sweep from sea, Whispering of things that fill the heart with fear.