Recognizes ever and anon The breeze of Nature stirring in his soul.
Tis said, fantastic ocean doth enfold The likeness of whate'er on land is seen.
But hushed be every thought that springs From out the bitterness of things.
The good die first, and they whose hearts are dry as summer dust, burn to the socket.
A light to guide, a rod To check the erring, and reprove.
"One impulse from a vernal wood