Not The Poem Which We Have Read

And Though Thou Notest From Thy Safe Recess Old Friends Burn Dim, Like Lamps In Noisome Air Love Them For What They Are; Nor Love Them Less, Because To Thee They Are Not What They Were.

Oh Sleep! It Is A Gentle Thing, Beloved From Pole To Pole.

Pedantry Consists In The Use Of Words Unsuitable To The Time, Place, And Company.

Falsehood Is Fire In Stubble; It Likewise Turns All The Light Stuff Around It Into Its Own Substance For A Moment, One Crackling Blazing Moment, And Then Dies; And All Its Converts Are Scattered In The Wind, Without Place Or Evidence Of Their Existence, As Viewless As The Wind Which Scatters Them.

All Nature Seems At Work. Slugs Leave Their Lair The Bees Are Stirring, Birds Are On The Wing, And Winter Slumbering In The Open Air, Wears On His Smiling Face A Dream Of Spring.