A deal of youth, ere this, is come Back, and with white thorn laden home. Some have despatch'd their cakes and cream And some have wept, and wooed, and plighted troth, Many a glance, too, has been sent. Many a jest told of the key's betraying This night, and locks pick'd: yet w' are not a-Maying. SWE Whose lives are others', not their own! But, serving courts and cities, be Less happy, less enjoying thee. Thou never ploughed the ocean's foam, No; thy ambition's master-piece For well thou know'st 'tis not th' extent Then to thy corn-fields thou dost go, Which, though well soil'd, yet thou dost know That the best compost for the lands Is the wise master's feet and hands. There, at the plough, thou find'st thy team, And, as thou look'st, the wanton steer, Of short sweet grass, as backs with wool; For sports, for pageantry, and plays, On which the young men and maids meet Tripping the comely country round, With daffodils and daisies crowned. And trace the hare in the treacherous snow : O happy life, if that their good And younglings, with such sports as these ; GOD UNSEARCHABLE. WEIGH me the fire; or canst thou find A way to measure out the wind ; And taste thou them as saltless there Tell me the motes, dusts, sands, and spears Of corn when summer shakes his ears; Show me that world of stars, and whence They noiseless spill their influence : This if thou canst, then show me Him |