Pleasures lie thickest, where no pleasures seem;
There's not a leaf that falls upon the ground
But holds some joy, of silence or of sound,
...
Pale pilgrim of the heavens, that late didst glide
With sunbeam staff the violet vales along,
Where fountains of fresh dew gushed up in song,
...
My heart will break - I'm sure it will:
My lover, yes, my favorite - he
...
How hard, when those who do not wish
To lend, that's lose, their books,
Are snared by anglers; folks that fish
With literary hooks;
...
Is there, when the winds are singing
In the happy summer time, -
When the raptured air is ringing
With Earth's music heavenward springing
...