Wak’d by the trumpet’s sound, I from my grave must rise, And see the Judge with glory crown’d, And see the flaming skies.

In this context the chantlike elements of his “Psalom” came across with a ritualistic, almost Hebraic quality.

Herbarium material does not, indeed, allow one to extrapolate safely: what you see is what you get; what you get is classical alpha-taxonomy which is, very largely and for sound reasons, in disrepute today.

Put his statement in quotes.