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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.
Hark! from the tombs a doleful sound.
Hark! from the tombs a doleful sound.
And filled the air with barbarous dissonance.
And filled the air with barbarous dissonance.
The sound must seem an echo to the sense.
The sound must seem an echo to the sense.
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.
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.
Parent of sweetest sounds, yet mute forever.
Parent of sweetest sounds, yet mute forever.
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 murmur that springs
From the growing of grass.
The murmur that springs
From the growing of grass.