Of his own truth and innocence,
And virtues lofty and severe—
Nay, nay! what need of reasons here?
They touch'd a fringe of tossing trees
That bound a mountain's brow like bay,
And through the fragrant boughs a breeze
Blew salt-flood freshness.
Far away,
From mountain brow to desert base
Lay chaos, space, unbounded space,