The sound of a verse is the harbinger of the truth contained therein.

If it be a right poem, this will be true.

Herein Herbert excels.

It will be found impossible to separate the music of his words from the music of the thought which takes shape in their sound.
I got me flowers to strow thy way, I got me boughs off many a tree; But thou wast up by break of day, And brought'st thy sweets along with thee.
And the gift it enwraps at once and reveals is, I have said, truth of the deepest.

Hear this song of divine service.