One impulse from a vernal wood May teach you more of man, Of moral evil and of good, Than all the sages can.

Controls them and subdues, transmutes, bereaves Of their bad influence, and their good receives.

Earth helped him with the cry of blood.

Before us lay a painful road, And guidance have I sought in duteous love From Wisdom's heavenly Father. Hence hath flowed Patience, with trust that, whatsoe'er the way Each takes in this high matter, all may move Cheered with the prospect of a brighter day.

Yet tears to human suffering are due; And mortal hopes defeated and o'erthrown Are mourned by man, and not by man alone.

Wild is the music of autumnal winds Amongst the faded woods.

And homeless near a thousand homes I stood, And near a thousand tables pined and wanted food.