Away to Heaven the melting view
Is soft with raptures of endless blue;
The trees and meadows, the hills and plains,
Like music woven of countless strains
Submerge, entwine, till the eye can see
No shade that is not a harmony.
As part of nature's most perfect whole
Each humble object conceives a soul,
No tiny flower in the distance lost,
But gives its colour, nor counts the cost;