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.