Thou'lt break my heart, thou bonnie bird, Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,

Which at this season, with their unripe Until, the breath of this corporeal frame

Flying from something that he dreads,

than one

Who sought the thing he loved. For NATnature then

(The coarser pleasures of my boyish days,
And their glad animal movements all gone
by)

To me was all in all I cannot paint
What then I was. The sounding cataract
Haunted me like a passion; the tall rock,
The mountain, and the deep and gloomy
wood,

Their colors and their forms, were then
to me

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An appetite; a feeling and a love,
That had no need of a remoter charm,
By thought supplied, nor any interest
Unborrowed from the eye.-That time is
past,

And all its aching joys are now no more,
And all its dizzy raptures. Not for this
Faint I, nor mourn nor murmur; other
gifts

Have followed; for such loss, I would be

lieve,

Abundant recompense.

learned

Suffer my genial spirits to decay:
For thou art with me here upon the banks
Of this fair river; thou my dearest friend,
My dear, dear friend; and in thy voice
I catch

The language of my former heart, and
read

My former pleasures in the shooting lights For I have Of thy wild eyes. Oh! yet a little while May I behold in thee what I was once, My dear, dear sister! and this prayer I

To look on nature, not as in the hour

Of thoughtless youth; but hearing often

make,

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