For Nature Is Love, And Finds Haunts

The Wild Swan Hurries Hight And Noises Loud With White Neck Peering To The Evening Clowd. The Weary Rooks To Distant Woods Are Gone. With Lengths Of Tail The Magpie Winnows On To Neighbouring Tree, And Leaves The Distant Crow While Small Birds Nestle In The Edge Below.

I Live Here Among The Ignorant Like A Lost Man In Fact Like One Whom The Rest Seems Careless Of Having Anything To Do With — They Hardly Dare Talk In My Company For Fear I Shoud Mention Them In My Writings & I Find More Pleasure In Wandering The Fields Then In Mixing Among My Silent Neighbours Who Are Insensible Of Everything But Toiling & Talking Of It & That To No Purpose.

Old April Wanes, And Her Last Dewy Morn Her Death-bed Steeps In Tears; To Hail The May New Blooming Blossoms Neath The Sun Are Born, And All Poor April's Charms Are Swept Away.

Throw Not My Words Away, As Many Do;they're Gold In Value, Though They're Cheap To You.

Wildness Is My Suiting Scene.