To the Lady Fleming.

But hushed be every thought that springs

From out the bitterness of things.

Elegiac Stanzas. Addressed to Sir G. H. B.

[[485]]

To the solid ground

Of Nature trusts the mind that builds for aye.

A Volant Tribe of Bards on Earth.

Soft is the music that would charm forever;

The flower of sweetest smell is shy and lowly.