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And let him, where and when he will, sit down
Beneath the trees, or by the grassy bank
Of high-way side, and with the little birds
Share his chance-gathered meal; and, finally,
As in the eye of Nature he has lived,
So in the eye of Nature let him die.


There's George Fisher, Charles Fleming, and Reginald

Shore, Three rosy-cheeked School-boys, the highest not more Than the height of a Counsellor's bag ; To the top of GREAT How did it please them to climb; And there they built up, without mortar or lime, A Man on the peak of the crag.

They built him of stones gathered up as they lay ;
They built him and christened him all in one day,
An Urchin both vigorous and hale;
And so without scruple they called him Ralph Jones.
Now Ralph is renowned for the length of his bones ;
The Magog of Legberthwaite dale.

Just half a week after, the wind sallied forth,
And, in anger or merriment, out of the North
Coming on with a terrible pother,
From the peak of the crag

blew the Giant

away. And what did these School-boys -The very next day They went and they built up


Great How is a single and conspicuous hill, which rises towards the foot of Thirl-mere, on the western side of the beautiful dale of Legberthwaite, along the high road between Keswick and Ambleside.


Art thou a Statesman, in the van
Of public business trained and bred?
-First learn to love one living man ;
Then mayst thou think upon the dead.

A Lawyer art thou ?-draw not nigh;
Go, carry to some other place
The hardness of thy coward eye,
The falsehood of thy sallow face.

Art thou a Man of purple cheer?
A rosy Man, right plump to see?
Approach ; yet, Doctor, not too near:
This grave no cushion is for thee.

Art thou a man of gallant pride,
A Soldier, and no man of chaff?
Welcome !--but lay thy sword aside,
And lean upon a Peasant's staff.

Physician art thou? One, all eyes,
Philosopher! a fingering slave,
One that would


and botanize Upon his mother's grave?

Wrappt closely in thy sensual Aleece
O turn aside, and take, I pray,
That he below may rest in peace,
Thy pin-point of a soul away!

A Moralist perchance appears ;
Led, Heaven knows how ! to this

sod: And He has neither eyes nor ears ; Himself his world, and his own God;


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