Society became my glittering bride, And airy hopes my children.

May books and nature be their early joy!

Let Nature be your teacher

That kill the bloom before its time, And blanch, without the owner's crime, The most resplendent hair.

Stop thinking for once in your life!

Here must thou be, O man, Strength to thyself - no helper hast thou here - Here keepest thou thy individual state: No other can divide with thee this work, No secondary hand can intervene To fashion this ability. 'Tis thine, The prime and vital principle is thine In the recesses of thy nature, far From any reach of outward fellowship, Else 'tis not thine at all.

And often, glad no more, We wear a face of joy because We have been glad of yore.