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.

Sweet are the little brooks that run
O'er pebbles glancing in the sun,
Singing in soothing tones.

Sweet are the little brooks that run
O'er pebbles glancing in the sun,
Singing in soothing tones.

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.

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.

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.

By magic numbers and persuasive sound.

By magic numbers and persuasive sound.

The murmur that springs
From the growing of grass.

The murmur that springs
From the growing of grass.