In open circle seated round, and hushed
As the unbreathing air, when not a leaf
Stirs in the mighty woods.—So did he speak:
The words he uttered shall not pass away
Dispersed, like music that the wind takes up
By snatches, and lets fall, to be forgotten;
No—they sank into me,[409] the bounteous gift
Of one whom time and nature had made wise,
Gracing his doctrine[410] with authority
Which hostile spirits silently allow;