These hoards of wealth you can unlock at will.

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

For nature then to me was all in all.

He spake of love, such love as spirits feel In worlds whose course is equable and pure; No fears to beat away, no strife to heal,- The past unsighed for, and the future sure.

And the most difficult of tasks to keep Heights which the soul is competent to gain.

The Poet, gentle creature as he is, Hath, like the Lover, his unruly times; His fits when he is neither sick nor well, Though no distress be near him but his own Unmanageable thoughts.

And he is oft the wisest manWho is not wise at all.