Then fancies
grew rife
Which had come long ago on the pasture, when round
me the sheep
Fed in silence—above, the one eagle wheeled
slow as in sleep;
And I lay in my hollow and mused on the world that
might lie
‘Neath his ken, tho’ I saw but the strip
’twixt the hill and the sky:
And I laughed—“Since my days are
ordained to be passed with my flocks, 140
Let me people at least, with my fancies, the plains
and the rocks,
Dream the life I am never to mix with, and image the
show
Of mankind as they live in those fashions I hardly
shall know!
Schemes of life, its best rules and right uses, the
courage that gains,
And the prudence that keeps what men strive for!”
And now these old trains
Of vague thought came again; I grew surer; so, once
more the string
Of my harp made response to my spirit, as thus—
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