Of thought and action, did the time permit
And were occasion fitting. But as now
For some few happy days we dwell amidst
The circle round his hearth; and at this time
Of social joy, and glad festivity,
’Twere better far to give a picture bright,—
Were but my pencil equal to the task—
Of that calm happiness, that tranquil joy,
That interchange of mental pure delight
Which here prevails, and which has risen up