"I make not my division of the hours By dials, clocks, or waking birds’ acclaim, Nor measure seasons by the reigning flowers, The spring’s green glories, or the autumn’s flame. To me thy absence winter is, and night, Thy presence spring, and the meridian day. From thee I draw my darkness and my light, Now swart eclipse, now more than heavenly ray. Thy coming warmeth all my soul like fire, And through my heartstrings melodies do run, As poets fabled the Memnonian lyre Hymned acclamation to the rising sun. My heart hums music in thy influence set: So winds put harps Aeolian on the fret."