Hidden in sorrow: at first, to the ear
The warble was low, and full, and clear;...
But anon her awful jubilant voice,
With a music strange and manifold,
Flowed forth on a carol free and bold....
And the creeping mosses and clambering weeds,
And the willow-branches hoar and dank,
And the wavy swell of the soughing reeds,
And the wave-worn horns of the echoing bank,
And the silvery marish-flowers that throng