Page:Poems on Various Subjects - Coleridge (1796).djvu/92

 I hymn thy name: and with a proud delight Oft will I tell thee, of the ! "Most musical, most melancholy" Bird! That all thy soft diversities of tone, Tho' sweeter far than the delicious airs That vibrate from a white-arm'd Lady's harp, What time the languishment of lonely love Melts in her eye, and heaves her breast of snow, Are not so sweet, as is the voice of her, My —best belov'd of human Kind! When breathing the pure soul of Tenderness She thrills me with the promis'd name!