A voice so thrilling ne'er was heard... Breaking the silence of the seas Among the farthest Hebrides.

Lady of the Mere, Sole-sitting by the shores of old romance.

This solitary Tree! a living thing Produced too slowly ever to decay; Of form and aspect too magnificent To be destroyed.

As generations come and go, Their arts, their customs, ebb and flow; Fate, fortune, sweep strong powers away, And feeble, of themselves, decay.

Father! - to God himself we cannot give a holier name.

The Poet binds together by passion and knowledge the vast empire of human society.

In heaven above, And earth below, they best can serve true gladness Who meet most feelingly the calls of sadness.