Look from their casement, ’mid that hush of soul,
Music from viewless harps shall visit thee,
Such as thou never heard’st amid the din
Of earth’s coarse enginery, by toil and care
Urged on without reprieve: Ah! kneel and catch
That tuneful cadence.
How closely wrapt
In quiet slumber are all things around,
The vine-leaf and the willow-fringe stir not,
Nor doth the chirping of the feeblest bird,