And feel the minutes in their rapid flight,
Yet never think to count them as they go;
The mind, in converse sweet, beguiled so.
Mrs. A. M. Wells.
29. A light commodious chamber
Looking out to the hills, and where the shine
Of the great sun may enter.
Mary Howitt.
30. It is a chosen plot of fertile land,
Emongst wide waves sett, like little nest,