Page:Poems, in two volumes (IA poemsintwovolume00word).pdf/132

This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.

120

"Yet life," you say, "is life; we have seen and see,And with a living pleasure we describe;And fits of sprightly malice do but bribeThe languid mind into activity.Sound sense, and love itself, and mirth and glee,Are foster'd by the comment and the gibe."Even be it so: yet still among your tribe,Our daily world's true Worldlings, rank not me!Children are blest, and powerful; their world liesMore justly balanced; partly at their feet,And part far from them:—sweetest melodiesAre those that are by distance made more sweet;Whose mind is but the mind of his own eyes,He is a Slave; the meanest we can meet!
Wings have we, and as far as we can goWe may find pleasure: wilderness and wood,Blank ocean and mere sky, support that moodWhich with the lofty sanctifies the low:
This article is issued from Wikisource. The text is available under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 unless otherwise noted. Additional terms may apply for the media files.