The fineness which a hymn or psalm affords

If when the soul unto the lines accords.

George Herbert (1593-1632): A True Hymn.

Why thus longing, thus forever sighing

For the far-off, unattain'd, and dim,

While the beautiful all round thee lying

Offers up its low, perpetual hymn?

Harriet W. Sewall (1819-1889): Why thus longing?

There is no vice so simple but assumes

Some mark of virtue in his outward parts.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): The Merchant of Venice. Act iii. Sc. 2.

'T is strange that death should sing.

I am the cygnet to this pale faint swan,

Who chants a doleful hymn to his own death,

And from the organ-pipe of frailty sings

His soul and body to their lasting rest.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): King John. Act v. Sc. 7.