THE SHEPHERD'S LAMENT[17] (1802)
Up yonder on the mountain,
I dwelt for days together;
Looked down into the valley,
This pleasant summer weather.
My sheep go feeding onward,
My dog sits watching by;
I've wandered to the valley,
And yet I know not why.
The meadow, it is pretty,
With flowers so fair to see;
I gather them, but no one
Will take the flowers from me.
The good tree gives me shadow,
And shelter from the rain;
But yonder door is silent,
It will not ope again!
I see the rainbow bending,
Above her old abode,
But she is there no longer;
They've taken my love abroad.
They took her o'er the mountains,
They took her o'er the sea;
Move on, move on, my bonny sheep,
There is no rest for me!
NATURE AND ART[18] (1802)
Nature and art asunder seem to fly,
Yet sooner than we think find common ground;
In place of strife, harmonious songs resound,
And both, at one, to my abode draw nigh.
In sooth but one endeavor I descry:
Then only, when in ordered moments' round
Wisdom and toil our lives to Art have bound,
Dare we rejoice in Nature's liberty.
Thus is achievement fashioned everywhere:
Not by ungovernable, hasty zeal
Shalt thou the height of perfect form attain.
Husband thy strength, if great emprize thou dare;
In self-restraint thy masterhood reveal,
And under law thy perfect freedom gain.