The Tables turned; an Evening Scene, on the same subject


An Evening Scene, on the same Subject.

Up! up! my friend, and clear your looks,
Why all this toil and trouble ?
Up! up! my friend, and quit your books,
Or surely you’ll grow double.
The sun, above the mountain’s head, 5
A freshening lustre mellow
Through all the long green fields has spread,
His first sweet evening yellow.
Books! ’tis a dull and endless strife,
Come, here the woodland linnet, 10
How sweet his music; on my life
There’s more of wisdom in it.
And hark! how blithe the throstle sings!
And he is no mean preacher;
Come forth into the light of things, 15
Let Nature be your teacher.
She has a world of ready wealth,
Our minds and hearts to bless—
Spontaneous wisdom breathed by health,
Truth breathed by chearfulness. 20
One impulse from a vernal wood
May teach you more of man;
Of moral evil and of good,
Than all the sages can.
Sweet is the lore which nature brings; 25
Our meddling intellect
Mishapes the beauteous forms of things;
—We murder to dissect.
Enough of science and of art;
Close up these barren leaves; 30
Come forth, and bring with you a heart
That watches and receives.