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

Pleasure is spread through the earth In stray gifts to be claimed by whoever shall find.

Bright gem instinct with music, vocal spark.

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

Those old credulities, to Nature dear, Shall they no longer bloom upon the stock Of history?

I'm not talking about a "show me other walls of this thing" button, I mean a "stumble" button for wallbase.

Therefore am I still a lover of the meadows and the woods, and mountains; and of all that we behold from this green earth.