When we were idlers with the loitering rills,
The need of human love we little noted
Our love was nature and the peace that floated
On the white mist, and dwelt upon the hills
To sweet accord subdued our wayward wills
One soul was ours, one mind, one heart devoted,
That, wisely doating, ask'd not why it doated
And ours the unknown joy, which knowing kills
But now I find, how dear thou ert to me
That man is more than half of nature's treasure
Of that fair Beauty which no eye can see,
Of that sweet music which no ear can measure,
And now the streams may sing for others' pleasure
The hills sleep on in their eternity.
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