Or anthem notes, wherever in archèd quires
The unheeded music twires,
And, centuries by, to the stony shade
Flies following and to fade:
Or a homely prattle of children’s voices gay
’Mong garden joys at play:
Or a sundown chaunting of solemn rooks:
Or memory of my books,
Which hold the words that poets in many a tongue
To the irksome world have sung: