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FOR THE WANDERING JEW.
Though the torrents from their fountains
Clouds that love through air to hasten,
What, if through the frozen centre
And the Sea-horse, though the ocean
If on windy days the Raven
The fleet Ostrich, till day closes
Day and night my toils redouble,
“ Pleasure is spread through the earth
By their floating mill,
That lies dead and still, Behold yon Prisoners three, The Miller with two Dames, on the breast of the
Thames ! The platform is small, but gives room for them all ; And they ’re dancing merrily.
From the shore come the notes
To their mill where it floats,
To the small wooden isle, where, their work to
beguile, They from morning to even take whatever is
given ; — And many a blithe day they have past.
In sight of the spires,
All alive with the fires Of the sun going down to his rest, In the broad open eye of the solitary sky, They dance, — there are three, as jocund as free, While they dance on the calm river's breast.
Man and Maidens wheel,
They themselves make the reel, And their music 's a prey which they seize It plays not for them, — what matter? 't is theirs ; And if they had care, it has scattered their cares, While they dance, crying, “ Long as ye please.”
They dance not for me,
Yet mine is their glee ! Thus pleasure is spread through the earth In stray gifts to be claimed by whoever shall find; Thus a rich loving-kindness, redundantly kind, Moves all nature to gladness and mirth.
The showers of the Spring
Rouse the birds, and they sing ;
Each leaf, that and this, his neighbor will kiss ; Each wave, one and tother, speeds after his brother; They are happy, for that is their right!
A PILGRIM, when the summer day
He paced along; and, pensively,
The murmur of a neighboring stream
Much did it taunt the humble Light,
“ Exalted Star!” the Worm replied,
“ But not for this do I aspire