Frances Anne Kemble (1809–1893)

SPIRIT of all sweet sounds! who in mid-air

Sittest enthroned, vouchsafe to hear my prayer!

Let all those instruments of music sweet

That in great Nature’s hymn bear burden meet

Sing round this mossy pillow, where my head

From the bright noontide sky is shelteréd.

Thou southern wind! wave, wave thy od’rous wings;

O’er your smooth channels gush, ye crystal springs!

Ye laughing elves! that through the rustling corn

Run chattering; thou tawny-coated bee,

Who at thy honey-work sing’st drowsily;

And ye, O ye! who greet the dewy morn,

And fragrant eventide, with melody,

Ye wild wood-minstrels, sing my lullaby!