Note 27 — INTRODUCTION

It filled the valley like a mist,

And still poured out its endless chant,

And still it swells upon the ear,

And wraps me in a golden trance,

Drowning the noisy tumult of the world.

. . . . . .

Like sweetest warblings from a sacred grove ...

Contending with the wild winds as they roar ...

And the proud places of the insolent

And the oppressor fell ...

Such and so little is the mind of Man!