And high prerogative!
Seeks he for wealth, denied
By worldlings, lucre-led, of sordid mind;
His heritage,—free, fertile, unconfined,—
Is Nature's pastures wide.
Pants he for peace, to throw
A solace on his soul? The voice that breathes
Its music, 'mong the wild flowers' clustering wreaths,
Does to his heart bestow
A bliss that none can share,