"Me rather all that bowery loveliness,
The brooks of Eden mazily murmuring,
And bloom profuse and cedar arches
Charm, as a wanderer out in ocean,"
"Where some refulgent sunset of India
Streams o'er a rich ambrosial ocean isle,
And, crimson-hued, the stately palm-woods
Whisper, in odorous heights, of even."
Then we have a strain which seems to anticipate Schumann himself, the
greatest symphonist after Beethoven--a singular repose, of almost
unearthly loveliness, after the high commotion.