Theres more of wisdom in it.

And hark! how blithe the throstle sings!

Through all the long green ?elds has spread,

His ?rst sweet evening yellow.

Sweet is the lore which nature brings;

C九*九*藏*書ome forth into the light of things,

Or surely youll grow double.

Come, hear the woodland linnet,

The sun above the mountains head,

A freshening lustre mellow,

Why all this to九九藏書il and trouble?

Up! up! my friend, and quit your books,

--We murder to dissect.

Books! tis a dull and endless strife,

Close up these barren leaves;

Misshapes the beauteous forms of things;

Our meddling intellect

Come forth, and bring with you a heart

Our minds and hearts to bless--

She has a 九九藏書world of ready wealth,

Of moral evil and of good,

Up! up! my friend, and clear your looks,

Than all the sages can.

That watches and receives.

Truth breathed by chearfulness.

Let Nature be you九_九_藏_書r teacher.

How sweet his music; on my life

Enough of science and of art;

May teach you more of man;

One impulse from a vernal wood

And he is no mean preacher;

Spontaneous wisdom breathed by health,