Viewless and deathless, and wondrous powers,
Whose voice he heard in his lonely hours,
And sought with its fancied sound to still
The heart earth could not fill.
Therefore the flowers of bright summers gone,
O’er your sweet waters, ye streams! were thrown
Thousands of gifts to the sunny sea
Have ye swept along, in your wanderings free,
And thrill’d to the murmur of many a vow—
Where all is silent now!