Page:Lyrical ballads, Volume 1, Wordsworth, 1800.djvu/57

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Books! 'tis a dull and endless strife,
Come, here the woodland linnet,
How sweet his music; on my life
There's more of wisdom in it.


And hark! how blithe the throstle sings!
And he is no mean preacher;
Come forth into the light of things,
Let Nature be your teacher.


She has a world of ready wealth,
Our minds and hearts to bless—
Spontaneous wisdom breathed by health,
Truth breathed by chearfulness.


One impulse from a vernal wood
May teach you more of man;
Of moral evil and of good,
Than all the sages can.