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"Think you, mid all this mighty sum
"—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 Earning Scene, on the same SubjeR,
Up! up! my friend, and clear your looks,
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,
And hark! how blithe the throstle sings!
She has a world of ready wealth,
One impulse from a vernal wood
Sweet is the lore which nature brings;
Enough of science and of art >
ANIMAL TRANQUILLITY & DECAY.
The little hedge-row birds That peck along the road, regard him not. He travels on, and in his face, his step, His gait, is one expression; every limb, His look and bending figure, all bespeak A man who does not move with pain, but mores With thought—He is insensibly subdued To settled quiet: he is one by whom All effort seems forgotten, one to whom Long patience has such mild composure given, That patience now doth seem a thing, of which He hath no need. He is by nature led