"She frames her house in which she will be placed
Fit for herself....
And the gross matter by a sovereign might
Tempers so trim....
For of the soul the body form doth take;
For soul is form, and doth the body make."]

The nature of this process we will illustrate by an examination of the
well-known _Bugle Song_ in Tennyson's "Princess."

First of all, there is the new music of the song, which does not even
remind one of the music of any other. The rhythm, rhyme, melody, harmony
are all an embodiment in sound, as distinguished from word, of what can
be so embodied--the _feeling_ of the poem, which goes before, and
prepares the way for the following thought--tunes the heart into a
receptive harmony. Then comes the new arrangement of thought and figure
whereby the meaning contained is presented as it never was before. We
give a sort of paraphrastical synopsis of the poem, which, partly in
virtue of its disagreeableness, will enable the lovers of the song to
return to it with an increase of pleasure.

The glory of midsummer mid-day upon mountain, lake, and ruin. Give
nature a voice for her gladness. Blow, bugle.

Nature answers with dying echoes, sinking in the midst of her splendour
into a sad silence.

Not so with human nature. The echoes of the word of truth gather volume
and richness from every soul that re-echoes it to brother and sister
souls.