The story of Cambuscan bold.
Il Penseroso. Line 109.
Where more is meant than meets the ear.
Il Penseroso. Line 120.
When the gust hath blown his fill,
Ending on the rustling leaves
With minute drops from off the eaves.
Il Penseroso. Line 128.
Hide me from day's garish eye.
Il Penseroso. Line 141.