Myriads of "movements" hurrying into "laws,"
The moan of men at immemorial ills,
And murmuring of innumerable shes.
MY LANDSCAPE.
Calm sea, the mirror of a cloudless sky,
Blue mountains, in the purple distance fading,
Tall, dark-hued pines, through which faint zephyrs sigh,
A garden shading.
A view that might inspire a poet's voice,