But she was a soft landscape of mild earth,

Where all was harmony, and calm, and quiet,

Luxuriant, budding; cheerful without mirth,

Which, if not happiness, is much more nigh it

Than are your mighty passions and so forth,

Which, some call "the Sublime:" I wish they'd try it:

I've seen your stormy seas and stormy women,

And pity lovers rather more than seamen.