Music, the mosaic of the air

“But at my back I always hear Time’s wingèd chariot hurrying near; And yonder al…”

“For Juliana comes, and she, what I do to the grass, does to my thoughts and me.”

“The grave's a fine and private place,But none, I think, do there embrace.”

“But at my back I always hear Time’s wingèd chariot hurrying near; And yonder al…”