A noise like of a hidden brook
In the leafy month of June,
That to the sleeping read more

A noise like of a hidden brook
In the leafy month of June,
That to the sleeping woods all night
Singeth a quiet tune.

The sound must seem an echo to the sense.

The sound must seem an echo to the sense.

Hark! from the tombs a doleful sound.

Hark! from the tombs a doleful sound.

I hear a sound so fine there's nothing lives
'Twixt it and silence.

I hear a sound so fine there's nothing lives
'Twixt it and silence.

The murmur that springs
From the growing of grass.

The murmur that springs
From the growing of grass.

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.

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.

My eyes are dim with childish tears,
My heart is idly stirred,
For the same sound is read more

My eyes are dim with childish tears,
My heart is idly stirred,
For the same sound is in my ears
Which in those days I heard.

By magic numbers and persuasive sound.

By magic numbers and persuasive sound.