Serene will be our days, and bright and happy will our nature be, when love is an unerring light, and joy its own security.

But who would force the soul tilts with a straw Against a champion cased in adamant

The ocean is a mighty harmonist.

Nature never did betray the heart that loved her.

I listened, motionless and still; And, as I mounted up the hill, The music in my heart I bore, Long after it was heard no more.

She gave me eyes, she gave me ears; And humble cares, and delicate fears; A heart, the fountain of sweet tears; And love and thought and joy.

Our meddling intellect Misshapes the beauteous forms of things We murder to dissect