Of pomp baronial, or gay fashion's haunts,
Where worldlings gather; but to rural homes,
To cottages and hearths, where kindness dwelt,
They bent their way; and not a gentle breeze
Inhaled in all their wanderings, not a flower,
Blooming by hedge-wayside, or mountain rill,
But lent its inspiration, scent, and sound,
Deepening the inward music of their hearts.
She touched the chord, and he gave forth its tone;
Without her he had idly gazed and dreamed,