There, from some gentle voice, that lay were sweet
As antique music, link’d with household words;
While in pleased murmurs woman’s lip might move,
And the raised eye of childhood shine in love.
Or where the shadows of dark solemn yews
Brood silently o’er some lone burial-ground,
Thy verse hath power that brightly might diffuse
A breath, a kindling, as of spring, around;
From its own glow of hope and courage high,
And steadfast faith’s victorious constancy.