Father! - to God himself we cannot give a holier name.
When his veering gait And every motion of his starry train Seem governed by a strain Of music, audible to him alone.
That blessed mood in which the burthen of the mystery, in which the heavy and the weary weight of all this unintelligible world is lightened.
We meet thee, like a pleasant thought, When such are wanted.
The ocean is a mighty harmonist.
Thou best philosopher, who yet dost keep/ Thy heritage, thou eye among the blind.