Religious musings in the forms of nature!
And so his senses gradually wrapped
In a half-sleep, he dreams of better worlds,
And dreaming hears thee still, O singing lark,
That singest like an angel in the clouds."
Here, buried in summer beauty from the world, in this green and delicious oratory, he lay and poured out those finely human thoughts on war and patriotism, which enrich this poem; which closes with a descriptive view of these hills, the wide prospects from them, and of little quiet Stowey lying at their feet.
"But now the gentle dew-fall sends abroad
The fruit-like perfume of the golden furz;
The light has left the summit of the hill;
Though still a sunny gleam lies beautiful