"With heart as calm as lakes that sleep, In frosty moonlight glistening; Or mountain rivers, where they creep Along a channel smooth and deep, To their own far-off murmurs listening." _Memory_.
"Leave to the nightingale her shady wood; A privacy of glorious light is thine; Whence thou dost pour upon the world a flood Of harmony, with instinct more divine." _To a Skylark_.
"And this huge Castle, standing here sublime, I love to see the look with which it braves-- Cas'd in th' unfeeling armour of old time-- The lightning, the fierce wind, and trampling waves." _Peele Castle_.
"Bright gem instinct with music, vocal spark; The happiest bird that sprang out of the Ark!" _A Morning Exercise_.
"One who was suffering tumult in his soul, Yet fail'd to seek the sure relief of prayer, Went forth,--his course surrendering to the care Of the fierce wind, while midday lightnings prowl Insidiously, untimely thunders growl; While trees, dim-seen, in frenzied numbers tear The lingering remnants of their yellow hair." _Mis. Son., Pt. ii_. 15.
"So deem'd the man who fashion'd for the sense These lofty pillars, spread that branching roof Self-pois'd, and scoop'd into ten thousand cells, Where light and shade repose, where music dwells Lingering,--and wandering on as loth to die."
"But, from the arms of silence,--list, O list!-- The music bursteth into second life; The notes luxuriate, every stone is kiss'd By sound, or ghost of sound, in mazy strife." _Eccle. Son., Pt. iii_. 43, 44.
"The towering headlands, crown'd with mist, Their feet among the billows, know That Ocean is a mighty harmonist." _Power of Sound_.
"Whate'er I saw, or heard, or felt, was but a stream That flow'd into a kindred stream; a gale Confederate with the current of the soul, To speed my voyage."
"Past and Future are the wings On whose support harmoniously conjoin'd Moves the great spirit of human knowledge." _Prelude, Book vi_.
"Child of loud-throated War! the mountain Stream Roars in thy hearing; but thy hour of rest Is come, and thou art silent in thy age."
"What art thou, from care Cast off,--abandon'd by thy rugged Sire, Nor by soft Peace adopted?"
"Shade of departed Power, Skeleton of unflesh'd humanity, The chronicle were welcome that should call Into the compass of distinct regard The toils and struggles of thy infant years!" _Kilchurn Castle_.