 | Stones from The Quarry |  |
“TRESPASSERS BEWARE.”
“Holloa there! can't you read? What businessHave you here, Sir; pray, what are you about?”
“Excuse me! from the high-road I turned out
Just to enjoy the landscape-loveliness
With which the all-greatest Painter here doth bless
The eyes of those not of the vulgar rout;
Who seeing see not, hearing hear not, doubt
Of all that hand can't handle, purse possess.
Alas! Nature's own child's a trespasser!
He is not, like the lark and nightingale,
Free of his own, tho' his heart worship her!”
Begone, poetic fool! “The Golden Vale”
Is Law's, not Nature's; she herself doth err,
And, for self-trespass, is thus put in jail!
| Stones from The Quarry | |