Sonnet + 

How Many Bards + 

How many bards gild the lapses of time! + 

A few of them have ever been the food + 

Of my delighted fancy,⁠—I could brood + 

Over their beauties, earthly, or sublime: + 

And often, when I sit me down to rhyme, + 

These will in throngs before my mind intrude: + 

But no confusion, no disturbance rude + 

Do they occasion; ’tis a pleasing chime. + 

So the unnumber’d sounds that evening store; + 

The songs of birds⁠—the whisp’ring of the leaves⁠— + 

The voice of waters⁠—the great bell that heaves + 

With solemn sound,⁠—and thousand others more, + 

That distance of recognizance bereaves, + 

Make pleasing music, and not wild uproar. + 