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Shut close the door; press down the latch;
But who is He, with modest looks,
He is retired as noontide dew,
The outward shows of sky and earth,
In common things that round us lie
But he is weak, both Man and Boy,
-Come hither in thy hour of strength; Come, weak as is a breaking wave! Here stretch thy body at full length; Or build thy house upon this grave. .
EXPOSTULATION AND REPLY:
“ Why, William, on that old gray stone,
“ Where are your books?—that light bequeathed “ To beings else forlorn and blind!
Up! up! and drink the spirit breathed « From dead men to their kind.
“ You look round on your mother earth, “ As if she for no purpose
you; “ As if you were her first-born birth, “ And none had lived before you !"
One morning thus, by Esthwaite lake,
“ The eye-it cannot choose but see ;
Against, or with our will.
« Nor less I deem that there are Powers
" Which of themselves our minds impress;
« That we can feed this mind of ours
“ In a wise passiveness.
“ Think you, mid all this mighty sum
“ – Then ask not wherefore, here, alone, “ Conversing as I may, " I sit upon this old gray stone, “ And dream my time away.”
THE TABLES TURNED;
AN EVENING SCENE, ON THE SAME SUBJECT.
Up! up! my Friend, and clear your looks;
The sun, above the mountain's head,
Books! 'tis a dull and endless strife :