Society became my glittering bride, And airy hopes my children.

From the body of one guilty deed a thousand ghostly fears and haunting thoughts proceed.

And I am happy when I sing.

On a fair prospect some have looked, And felt, as I have heard them say, As if the moving time had been A thing as steadfast as the scene On which they gazed themselves away.

May books and nature be their early joy!

A simple child. That lightly draws its breath. And feels its life in every limb. What should it know of death?

The silence that is in the starry sky, / The sleep that is among the lonely hills.