By thought supplied, or any interest
Unborrow'd from the eye.
Beautiful notes, to be struck again more forcibly by the frank pantheism of Byron.
What Scott had been doing for Scotland,[[14]] and Moore for Ireland, Wordsworth, with still greater fidelity to truth, tried to do for England and her people; in contrast to Byron and Shelley, who forsook home to range more widely, or Southey, whose Thalaba begins with an imposing description of night in the desert:
How beautiful is night!
A dewy freshness fills the silent air,
No mist obscures, nor cloud, nor speck, nor stain
Breaks the serene of heaven;
In full-orb'd glory yonder Moon divine
Rolls through the dark blue depths.