But hushed be every thought that springs From out the bitterness of things.
Often have I sighed to measure By myself a lonely pleasure,- Sighed to think I read a book, Only read, perhaps, by me.
The vision and the faculty divine; Yet wanting the accomplishment of verse.
Thou unassuming common-place of Nature, with that homely face.
Delight and liberty, the simple creed of childhood.
Bliss it was in that dawn to be alive But to be young was very heaven.