LINES WRITTEN IN EARLY SPRING.
To her fair works did nature link
The birds around me hoppd and playd:
The periwinkle traild its wreathes;
What man has made of man?
Their thohttps://read.99csw.comughts I cannot measure,
That there was pleasure there.
But the least motion which they made,
To catch the breezy air;
What mhttps://read.99csw.coman has made of man.
Enjoys the air it breathes.
In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts
It seemd a thrill of pleasure.
I heard a https://read.99csw.comthousand blended notes,
LINES WRITTEN IN EARLY SPRING.
Have I not reason to lament
Through primrose-tufts, in that sweet bowread.99csw.comer,
And much it grievd my heart to think
If I these thoughts may not prevent,
If such be of my creed the plan,
Bring sad thoughts to the mind.
The budding read•99csw.comtwigs spread out their fan,
And I must think, do all I can,
And tis my faith that every ?ower
The human soul that through me ran;
While in a grove I sate reclined,