28
LEWESDON HILL.
What but an empty pageant of sweet noise?
Tis past: and all that it has left behind
Is but an echo dwelling in the ear
Of the toy-taken fancy, and beside
A void and countless hour in life's brief day.
Tis past: and all that it has left behind
Is but an echo dwelling in the ear
Of the toy-taken fancy, and beside
A void and countless hour in life's brief day.
But ill accords my verse with the delights
Of this gay month: and see the Villagers
Assembling jocund in their best attire
To grace this genial morn. Now I descend
To join the worldly croud; perchance to talk,
To think, to act as they: then all these thoughts,
That lift th' expanded heart above this spot
To heavenly musing, these shall pass away
(Even as this goodly prospect from my view)
Hidden by near and earthy-rooted cares.
So passeth human life; our better mind
Is as a sunday's garment, then put on
When we have nought to do; but at our work
We wear a worse for thrift. Of this enough:
To-morrow for severer thought; but now
To breakfast, and keep festival to-day.
Of this gay month: and see the Villagers
Assembling jocund in their best attire
To grace this genial morn. Now I descend
To join the worldly croud; perchance to talk,
To think, to act as they: then all these thoughts,
That lift th' expanded heart above this spot
To heavenly musing, these shall pass away
(Even as this goodly prospect from my view)
Hidden by near and earthy-rooted cares.
So passeth human life; our better mind
Is as a sunday's garment, then put on
When we have nought to do; but at our work
We wear a worse for thrift. Of this enough:
To-morrow for severer thought; but now
To breakfast, and keep festival to-day.
THE END.
