XC.

Then stirs the feeling infinite, so felt[kc] In solitude, where we are _least_ alone; A truth, which through our being then doth melt, And purifies from self: it is a tone, The soul and source of Music, which makes known[kd] Eternal harmony, and sheds a charm Like to the fabled Cytherea's zone,[334] Binding all things with beauty;--'twould disarm The spectre Death, had he substantial power to harm.