Until, the breath of this corporeal frame And even the motion of our human blood Almost suspended, we are laid asleep In body, and become a living soul: While with an eye made quiet by the power Of harmony, and the deep power of joy, We see into the life of things.

Free as a bird to settle where I will.

Serene will be our days, and bright and happy will our nature be, when love is an unerring light, and joy its own security.

But who would force the soul tilts with a straw Against a champion cased in adamant

Myriads of daisies have shone forth in flower Near the lark's nest, and in their natural hour Have passed away; less happy than the one That by the unwilling ploughshare died to prove The tender charm of poetry and love.

Oh for a single hour of that Dundee Who on that day the word of onset gave!

Golf is a day spent in a round of strenuous idleness.