Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep! The river glideth at his own sweet will; Dear God! the very houses seem asleep; And all that mighty heart is lying still!

The moving accident is not my trade; To freeze the blood I have no ready arts: 'Tis my delight, alone in summer shade, To pipe a simple song for thinking hearts.

These hoards of wealth you can unlock at will.

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

Wisdom is oftentimes nearer when we stoop than when we soar.

I've watched you now a full half-hour; Self-poised upon that yellow flower And, little Butterfly! Indeed I know not if you sleep or feed. How motionless! - not frozen seas More motionless! and then What joy awaits you, when the breeze Hath found you out among the trees, And calls you forth again!

How does the Meadow flower its bloom unfold? Because the lovely little flower is free down to its root, and in that freedom bold.