A Day for Wandering(在线收听

   I SET apart a day for wandering;

  I heard the woodlands ring,
  The hidden white-throat sing,
  And the harmonic West,
  Beyond a far hill-crest,
  Touch its Aeolian string.
  Remote from all the brawl and bruit of men,
  The iron tongue of Trade,
  I followed the clear calling of a wren
  Deep to the bosom of a sheltered glade,
  Where interwoven branches spread a shade
  Of soft cool beryl like the evening seas
  Unruffled by the breeze.
  And there—and there—
  I watched the maiden-hair,
  The pale blue iris-grass,
  The water-spider in its pause and pass
  Upon a pool that like a mirror was.
  I took for confidant
  The diligent ant 20
  Threading the clover and the sorrel aisles;
  For me were all the smiles
  Of the sequestered blossoms there abloom—
  Chalice and crown and plume;
  I drank the ripe rich attars blurred and blent,
  And won—Content!
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