With Nature's voice as the unfailing stay And guardian of thy feelings, as the rock, The shield, and anchor of thy purest joys. And therefore art thou happy....And thy mind Is stored with sweet and pleasant images, And made the habitation of those charms Which thou hast seen and felt; and after days Shall see thee feeding on the blisful thoughts Which thou hast treasured in thy memory.
And now, farewell! thou smiling Vale, thou
Of calm and pleasant thoughts, for this one night Farewell, thou smiling Vale! Refreshed in heart, And glad in spirit, with oft-loitering step And still-reverted gaze, I quit these scenes ; Purposing, if to-morrow's sun shall shine
Upon these eyes, once more to visit thee, Once more to breathe the freshness of thy gales, And once more with thy magic feast my soul, Then for a long farewell!
The stir, and bustle of the world shall press Heavily on my heart, and when my soul
Is sick to death of the incessant hum
And ceremonious buz of social life,
Then shall I turn with loathing from the tricks,
Fantastic freaks, and antic mummery, That fashion forms, with quaint formality, To manacle mankind; then shall I turn To thee, fair smiling Vale! Thy green recess, Thy spreading shade, thy high-embowering rocks Shall be a cradle and soft resting-place
For my long-harassed thoughts, and thou shalt slake My soul's hot fever, thou shalt soothe away The fretful peevishness that on my mind. Hangs most unpleasantly.
That, not unprofited, I shall recall
My thoughts from their sweet travel; that the force Of all these influences may diffuse
Throughout my blood a mild and gentle mood, Cooling the throbs of passion....So the peace
And calm serenity of future days
Haply shall prove thy sway most fortunate.
хри καλανούντα μη καταφρονειν των αορατων, αλλ' εκ των γινομένων την δύναμιν αυτων καλαμανθανονία, τιμών Ξενοφ. περί Θεων.
WHERE Sweeping torrents foam, and pour Through forest-shades with sullen roar, Where gathering floods pursue their way To join the woody winding bay, There, where if mortal feet presume The pathless wilds to tempt, or tread The dismal glens, where endless gloom And ever-during dusk is spread, Straight flitting forms and shades appear To daunt the rash resolves with fear;
By tangled boughs and brakes concealed, There is my cavern, unrevealed
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