III.

Then, haply, mortal and celestial lays, Mingling their tones, from nature’s temple rose, When nought but that majestic song of praise Broke on the sanctity of night’s repose, With music since unheard: and man might trace By stream and vale, in deep embow’ring shade, Devotion’s first and loveliest dwelling-place, The footsteps of th’ Omnipotent, who made That spot a shrine, where youthful nature cast Her consecrated wealth, rejoicing as He pass’d.