Whate'er the theme, the maiden sang As if her song could have no ending, I saw her singing at her work, And o'er the sickle bending; I listened, motionless and still, And, as I mounted up the hill, The music in my heart I bore, Long after it was heard no more. SKATING AT NIGHT. [From the _Prelude_.] So through the darkness and the cold we flew, And not a voice was idle; with the din Smitten, the precipices rang aloud; The leafless trees and every icy crag Tinkled like iron; while far distant hills Into the tumult sent an alien sound Of melancholy not unnoticed, while the stars Eastward were sparking clear, and in the west The orange sky of evening died away. Not seldom from the uproar I retired Into a silent bay, or sportively Glanced sideway, leaving the tumultuous throng, To cut across the reflex of a star That fled, and, flying still before me, gleamed Upon the glassy plain; and oftentimes, When we had given our bodies to the wind, And all the shadowy banks on either side Came sweeping through the darkness, spinning still The rapid line of motion, then at once Have I, reclining back upon my heels, Stopped short; yet still the solitary cliffs Wheeled by me--even as if the earth had rolled With visible motion her diurnal round! Behind me did they stretch in solemn train, Feebler and feebler, and I stood and watched Till all was tranquil as a dreamless sleep. * * * * * SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE. THE SONG OF THE SPIRITS. [From _The Ancient Mariner_.] Sometimes, a-dropping from the sky, I heard the skylark sing; Sometimes all little birds that are, How they seemed to fill the sea and air With their sweet jargoning! And now 'twas like all instruments, And now like a lonely flute; And now it is an angel's song That makes the heavens be mute. It ceased; yet still the sails made on A pleasant noise till noon, A noise like of a hidden brook In the leafy month of June, That to the sleeping woods all night Singeth a quiet tune. THE LOVE OF ALL CREATURES. [From the same.] O wedding guest, this soul hath been Alone on a wide, wide sea: So lonely 'twas that God himself Scarce seemed there to be. O sweeter than the marriage feast, 'Tis sweeter far to me, To walk together to the kirk With a goodly company. To walk together to the kirk, And all together pray, While each to his great Father bends, Old men and babes and loving friends, And youths and maidens gay. Farewell, farewell! but this I tell To thee, thou wedding guest; He prayeth well who loveth well Both man and bird and beast. He prayeth best who loveth best All things both great and small; For the dear God who loveth us, He made and loveth all. ESTRANGEMENT OF FRIENDS. [From _Christabel_.]