Or humming stream, or old cathedral quire.
Her beauty broke not on a sudden glance,
But if you watched its soft progressive ray,
Some hidden charm of form, or countenance,
Like silver planets at the close of day—
Would cast its slender veil of shadows by,
And timidly advance upon the eye.
Her heart was that from which her features took
The tender tone their aspect ever wore;
The pensive thoughts which saddened in her look,