Till Fancy had her fill; but ere a close,
The wonted roar was up amidst the woods,
And filled the air with barbarous dissonance:
At which I ceased, and listen’d them a while,
Till an unusual stop of sudden silence
Gave respite to the drowsy-flighted steeds
That draw the litter of close-curtain’d sleep:
At last a soft and solemn breathing sound
Rose like a steam of rich distill’d perfumes,
And stole upon the air, that even Silence