He murmurs near the running brooks A music sweeter than their own.
Strongest minds are often those whom the noisy world hears least.
A creature not too bright or good For human nature's daily food; For transient sorrows, simple wiles, Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles.
Spires whose "silent finger points to heaven."
Nuns fret not at their convent's narrow room; And hermits are contented with their cells.
A deep distress has humanised my soul.