 | Lyrical Ballads |  |
THE TABLES TURNED;
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.
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,
A freshening lustre mellow,
Through all the long green fields has spread,
His first sweet evening yellow.
A freshening lustre mellow,
Through all the long green fields has spread,
His first sweet evening yellow.
187
Come, hear the woodland linnet,
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,
Let Nature be your teacher.
And he is no mean preacher;
Come forth into the light of things,
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.
Our minds and hearts to bless —
Spontaneous wisdom breathed by health,
Truth breathed by chearfulness.
One impulse from a vernal wood
May teach you more of man;
Of moral evil and of good,
Than all the sages can.
May teach you more of man;
Of moral evil and of good,
Than all the sages can.
188
Our meddling intellect
Mishapes the beauteous forms of things;
— We murder to dissect.
Enough of science and of art;
Close up these barren leaves;
Come forth, and bring with you a heart
That watches and receives.
Close up these barren leaves;
Come forth, and bring with you a heart
That watches and receives.
| Lyrical Ballads | |