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We talked with open heart, and tongue
We lay beneath a spreading oak,
And from the turf a fountain broke,
“ Now, Matthew! let us try to match
" Or of the Church-clock and the chimes
Sing here beneath the shade,
last April made!”
In silence Matthew lay, and eyed
« Down to the yale this water steers,
How merrily it goes !
« And here, on this delightful day,
I cannot choose but think
How oft, å vigorous man, I lay
My eyes are dim with childish tears, My heart is idly stirred, For the same sound is in my ears Which in those days I heard.
« Thus fares it still in our decay :
takes away Than what it leaves behind.
« The Blackbird in the summer trees,
" With Nature never do they wage
“But we are pressed by heavy laws;
« If there is one who need bemoan
His kindred laid in earth,
It is the man of mirth.
“ My days, my Friend, are almost gone, My life has been approved, And many
but by none Am I enough beloved."
love me ;
“ Now both himself and me he wrongs, The man who thus complains ! I live and sing my
songs Upon these bappy plains,
" And, Matthew, for thy Children dead I'll be a son to thee !" At this he grasped his hands, and said " Alas! that cannot be.”
We rose up from the fountain-side ;
And down the smooth descent
Of the green sheep-track did we glide; And through the wood we went;
And, ere we came to Leonard's Rock,