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WITHOUT AND WITHIN.
And He, the kind old bachelor whose heart had been for one
Too much, and so he shared it out with all beneath the sun—
I see his broad and honest brow, the sparkle in his eye
(A steadfast fire undimmed by age), I hear his slow reply.

The patientest of anglers he, and I the quietest
Of dreamy boys, true comrades we,—he chose me from the rest;
Content to saunter by his side in silence through the day,
Through coppice and by stream, the while my thoughts were far away,

Perhaps with Crusoe in his isle; our noonday meal we took
Beneath an old grey lichened rock that beetled o'er the brook;
Then were our tongues set free at last! not learning much nor wit
Went with our simple fare, but talk as well that seasoned it.

I never hear a chafing brook, nor see the smooth stones lie
Beneath it golden-brown, or mark the mailed dragonfly