Page:Poems and extracts - Wordsworth.djvu/31

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Song


Would we attain the happiest state,
That is design'd us here
No joy a rapture must create
No grief beget despair.

No injury fierce anger raise,
No honour tempt to pride
No vain desires of empty praise
Must in the soul abide.

No charms of youth or beauty move
The constant settled breast; 10
Who leaves a passage free to love,
Shall let in all the rest.

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