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.

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.

From Helicon's harmonious springs
A thousand rills their mazy progress take.

From Helicon's harmonious springs
A thousand rills their mazy progress take.

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.

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!

I did never know so full a voice issue from so empty a heart; but
the saying is true, read more

I did never know so full a voice issue from so empty a heart; but
the saying is true, 'The empty vessel makes the greatest sound.'

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.

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.