The want of knowledge—all we know is useless:
But ’tis not wise to sadden with such thoughts
This hour of beauty and benignity:
Look yonder, with delighted heart and eye,
On those low cottages that shine so bright
(Each with its garden plot of smiling green),
Robed in the glory of the setting sun!
But he is parting—fading—day is over—
Yonder he hastens to diffuse new life.
Oh, for a wing to raise me up from earth,