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.

Stern winter loves a dirge-like sound.

And doth, with his eternal motion makeA sound like thunder - everlasting

A flock of sheep that leisurely pass by,One after one; the sound of rain, and beesMurmuring; the fall of rivers, winds and seas,Smooth fields, white sheets of water, and pure sky;I have thought of all by turns, and yet do lieSleepless!

What's the business, That such a hideous trumpet calls to parley The sleepers of the house? Speak, speak!

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.'