Matthew Ebel - Wordsworth lyrics

I hear a thousand blended notes While, in a grove, I sat reclined And that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts Bring sad thoughts to the mind To her fair works, did nature link The human soul that, through me, ran And much it grieved my heart to think What man has made of man Through primrose tufts in that green bower The periwinkle trailed its wreaths And 'tis my faith that every flower Enjoys the air it breathes.