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"Think you, mid all this mighty sum "Of things for ever speaking,
"That nothing of itself will come,
"But we must still be seeking?
"Then ask not wherefore, here, alone,
Conversing as I may,
"I sit upon this old grey stone, "And dream my time away."
THE TABLES TURNED;
An EVENING SCENE, on the same Subject.
Up! up! my Friend, and clear your looks;
Why all this toil and trouble?
Up! up! my Friend, and quit your books,
Or surely you'll grow double.
The sun, above the mountain's head,
A freshening lustre mellow
Through all the long green fields has spread, His first sweet evening yellow.
Books! 'tis a dull and endless strife:
How sweet his music; on my life
There's more of wisdom in it.
And hark! how blithe the Throstle sings!
And he is no mean preacher :
Come forth into the light of things,
Let Nature be your teacher.
She has a world of ready wealth,
Our minds and hearts to bless
Spontaneous wisdom breathed by health,
Truth breathed by chearfulness.
One impulse from a vernal wood
May teach you more of man;
Of moral evil and of good,
Than all the sages can.
Sweet is the lore which nature brings;
Mishapes the beauteous forms of things;,
-We murder to dissect.
Enough of science and of art;
Close up these barren leaves;
Come forth, and bring with you a heart
That watches and receives.
ANIMAL TRANQUILLITY and DECAY,
The little hedge-row birds
That peck along the road, regard him not.
His look and bending figure, all bespeak
A man who does not move with pain, but moves With thought. He is insensibly subdued
To settled quiet he is one by whom
All effort seems forgotten, one to whom