mist and chimneys unconfined,
Free to the sweep of light and wind;
While through their earth-moor'd nave below
Another breath of wind doth blow,
Sound as of wandering breeze--but sound 75
In laws by human artists bound.

"The world of music deg.!" I exclaimed:-- deg.77
"This breeze that rustles by, that famed
Abbey recall it! what a sphere
Large and profound, hath genius here! 80
The inspired musician what a range,
What power of passion, wealth of change
Some source of feeling he must choose
And its lock'd fount of beauty use,
And through the stream of music tell 85
Its else unutterable spell;
To choose it rightly is his part,
And press into its inmost heart.

"_Miserere Domine deg.!_ deg.89
The words are utter'd, and they flee. 90
Deep is their penitential moan,
Mighty their pathos, but 'tis gone.
They have declared the spirit's sore
Sore load, and words can do no more.
Beethoven takes them then--those two 95
Poor, bounded words--and makes them new;
Infinite makes them, makes them young;
Transplants them to another tongue,
Where they can now, without constraint,
Pour all the soul of their complaint, 100
And roll adown a channel large
The wealth divine they have in charge.
Page after page of music turn,
And still they live and still they burn,
Eternal, passion-fraught, and free-- 105
_Miserere Domine deg.!"_ deg.106

Onward we moved, and reach'd the Ride deg. deg.107
Where gaily flows the human tide.
Afar, in rest the cattle lay;
We heard, afar, faint music play; 110
But agitated, brisk, and near,
Men, with their stream of life, were here.
Some hang upon the rails, and some
On foot behind them go and come.
This through the Ride upon his steed 115
Goes slowly by, and this at speed.
The young, the happy, and the fair,
The old, the sad, the worn, were there;
Some vacant, deg. and some musing went,
And some in talk and merriment. 120
Nods, smiles, and greetings, and farewells!
And now and then, perhaps, there swells
A sigh, a tea