...Here, if the solemn Nightingale be mute And the soft Woodlark here did never chaunt Her vespers, Nature fails not to provide Impulse and utterance. The whispering...notes With the loud Streams : and often, at the hour Wrhen issue forth the first pale Stars, is heard, Within the circuit of this Fabric huge, One Voice—...

...the solemn nightingale be route, And the soft wood-lark here did never c haunt : The vespers, Nature fails not to provide Impulse and utterance. The whispering...from the shadowy heights, And blind recesses of the cavern'd rocks : The little rills and waters numberless, Inaudible by day-light, blend their notes...

...if the solemn nightingale be mute, And the soft woodlark here did never chant His vespers ; Nature fails not to provide Impulse and utterance. The whispering...from the shadowy heights And blind recesses of the cavern'd rocks. The little rills and waters numberless, Inaudible by daylight, blend their notes With...

[ Sidan har tyvärr begränsat innehåll ]

...connected with the working of such power, ought not to form the slightest objection to its reality. The whispering air Sends inspiration from the shadowy...heights, And blind recesses of the caverned rocks. What is thus said of the air, might be said of many influences in nature. We know that they exist,...

[ Sidan har tyvärr begränsat innehåll ]

...if the solemn nightingale be mute, And the soft woodlark here did never chant Her vespers,— Nature fails not to provide Impulse and utterance. The whispering...daylight, blend their notes With the loud streams I ^ind often, at the hour When issue forth the first pale stars, is heard, Within the circuit of this...

...inspiration from the shadowy heights, And blind recesses of the cavern'd rocks ; The little hills, nerves along, Those accents, grateful to thy tongue,...maddening play, Wild send thee pleasure's devious way, Mi voice — the solitary raven, flying Athwart the concave of the dark-blue dome, Unseen, perchance above...

...if the solemn nightingale be mute, And the soft wjodlark here did never chant Her v(s¡iers, nature soon be lost, And leaving footsteps to be traced by...genius ; one who saw, Observed, nor shunn'd the bus cavern'd rocks ; The little hills, and waters numberless, Inaudible by daylight, blend their notes...

...Here, if the solemn nightingale be mute, And the soft woodlark here did never chant Her vespers, nature fails not to provide Impulse and utterance. The whispering...from the shadowy heights, And blind recesses of the cavern'd rocks ; The little hills, and waters numberless, Inaudible by daylight, blend their notes...