THE MOON
  The snow upon my lifeless mountains
  Is loosened into living fountains,
  My solid oceans flow, and sing and shine;
  A spirit from my heart bursts forth,
  It clothes with unexpected birth
  My cold bare bosom. Oh, it must be thine
  On mine, on mine!

  Gazing on thee I feel, I know,
  Green stalks burst forth, and bright flowers grow,
  And living shapes upon my bosom move;
  Music is in the sea and air,
  Wingèd clouds soar here and there
  Dark with the rain new buds are dreaming of:
  'T is love, all love!

THE EARTH
  It interpenetrates my granite mass,
  Through tangled roots and trodden clay doth pass
  Into the utmost leaves and delicatest flowers;
  Upon the winds, among the clouds 't is spread,
  It wakes a life in the forgotten dead,--
  They breathe a spirit up from their obscurest bowers;