And her half-parted lips were tremulous still,
As on them lingered, fluttering to depart,
Th’ unuttered burden of a gushing heart,
The voiceful murmur of the waves below —
The airs of balm that whispered through the leaves —
The trill of fountains in their dazzling flow —
The soul-born song the bright-winged wild bird weaves,
The various tones of teeming nature, rife
With the warm bliss of heaven-imparted life.
Glimpses of cities through far vistas seen —