Thou hastenest down between the hills to meet me at the road,
The secret scarcely lisping of thy beautiful read more

Thou hastenest down between the hills to meet me at the road,
The secret scarcely lisping of thy beautiful abode
Among the pines and mosses of yonder shadowy height,
Where thou dost sparkle into song, and fill the woods with light.

Sonorous metal blowing martial sounds,
At which the universal host up sent
A shout that tore hell's read more

Sonorous metal blowing martial sounds,
At which the universal host up sent
A shout that tore hell's concave, and beyond
Frighted the reign of Chaos and old Night.

Brook! whose society the poet seeks,
Intent his wasted spirits to renew;
And whom the curious painter read more

Brook! whose society the poet seeks,
Intent his wasted spirits to renew;
And whom the curious painter doth pursue
Through rocky passes, among flowery creeks,
And tracks thee dancing down thy water-breaks.

Their rising all at once was as the sound
Of thunder heard remote.

Their rising all at once was as the sound
Of thunder heard remote.

See, how the stream has overflowed
Its banks, and o'er the meadow road
Is spreading far and read more

See, how the stream has overflowed
Its banks, and o'er the meadow road
Is spreading far and wide!

A thousand trills and quivering sounds
In airy circles o'er us fly,
Till, wafted by a gentle read more

A thousand trills and quivering sounds
In airy circles o'er us fly,
Till, wafted by a gentle breeze,
They faint and languish by degrees,
And at a distance die.

To all proportioned terms he must dispense
And make the sound a picture of the sense.

To all proportioned terms he must dispense
And make the sound a picture of the sense.

The more thou dam'st it up, the more it burns.
The current that with gentle murmur glides,
read more

The more thou dam'st it up, the more it burns.
The current that with gentle murmur glides,
Thou know'st, being stopped, impatiently doth rage;
But when his fair course is not hindered,
He makes sweet music with th' enameled stones,
Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge,
He overtaketh in his pilgrimage.
And so by many winding nooks he strays
With willing sport to the wild ocean.
Then let me go and hinder not my course.
I'll be as patient as a gentle stream
And make a pastime of each weary step,
Till the last step have brought me to my love;
And there I'll rest, as after much turmoil
A blessed soul doth in Elysium.

Hark! from the tombs a doleful sound.

Hark! from the tombs a doleful sound.