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Blest in their several and their common lot!
A few short hours of each returning day
The thriving Prisoners of their Village school;
And thence let loose, to seek their pleasant homes,
Or range the grassy lawn in vacancy,
To breathe and to be happy, run and shout
Idle,—but no delay, no harm, no loss;
For every genial Power of heaven and earth,
Through all the seasons of the changeful year,
Obsequiously doth take upon herself
To labour for them; bringing each in turn
The tribute of enjoyment, knowledge, health,
Beauty, or strength! Such privilege is theirs,
Granted alike in the outset of their course
To both; and, if that partnership must cease,
I grieve not," to the Pastor here he turned,
"Much as I glory in that Child of yours,
Repine not, for his Cottage-comrade, whom
Belike no higher destiny awaits
Than the old hereditary wish fulfilled,
The wish for liberty to live—content
With what heaven grants, and die—in peace of mind,
Within the bosom of his native Vale.
