Every gift of noble origin Is breathed upon by Hope's perpetual breath.

To me the meanest flower that blows can give thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.

Often have I sighed to measure By myself a lonely pleasure,- Sighed to think I read a book, Only read, perhaps, by me.

Wisdom sits with children round her knees.

It is a beauteous evening, calm and free, The holy time is quiet as a nun Breathless with adoration; the broad sun Is sinking down in its tranquillity; The gentleness of heaven broods o'er the sea: Listen! the mighty being is awake, And doth with his eternal motion make A sound like thundereverlastingly.

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

Wisdom married to immortal verse.