Whatever tones and melancholy pleasures
The things of nature utter; birds or trees,
Or where the tall grass mid the heath-plant waves,
Murmur and music thin of sudden breeze.” Coleridge.
I heard a song upon the wandering wind,
A song of many tones—though one full soul
Breathed through them all imploringly; and made
All nature as they pass’d, all quivering leaves
And low responsive reeds and waters, thrill
As with the consciousness of human prayer.