And every feeling dissonant and rude
To full and perfect harmony be brought;
Whilst richest colours, from gay fancy caught,
Must paint the whole, and with their light illume
Well-chosen words, though seemingly unsought,
That run in cheerful music, and assume
Rich melodies of verse,—like breezes o’er spring’s bloom.
No Muses haunt Parnassus’ lofty mount,
Nor wander on by Castalie’s pure stream;
Whose waters welling from their crystal fount