LINES WRITTEN AT A SMALL DISTANCE...

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    <strong>LINES WRITTEN AT A SMALL DISTANCE FROM MY HOUSE, A BY MY LITTLE BOY TO THE PERSON TO WHOM THEY ARE ADDRESSED.</strong>

    It is the first mild day of March:

    Each minute sweeter than before,

    The red-breast sings from the tall larch

    That stands beside our door.

    There is a blessing in the air,

    Which seems a sense of joy to yield

    To the bare trees, and mountains bare,

    And g<q></q>rass in the green ?eld.

    My Sister! (tis a wish of mine)

    Now that our m meal is done,

    Make haste, your m task resign;

    e forth ahe sun.

    Edward will e with you, and pray,

    Put on with speed your woodland dress,

    And bring no book, for this one day

    Well give to idleness.

    No joy<bdo>?９9ｌｉｂ.</bdo>less forms shall regulate

    Our living dar:

    We from to-day, my friend, will date

    The opening of the year.

    Love, now an universal birth.

    From heart to heart is stealing,

    From earth to man, from man to earth,

    --It is the hour of feeling.

    One moment now may give us more

    Than ?fty years of reason;

    Our minds shall drink at every pore

    The spirit of<mark>?</mark> the season.

    Some silent laws our hearts may make,

    Which they shall long obey;

    We for the year to ay take

    Our temper from to-day.

    And from the<bdo></bdo> blessed power that rolls

    About, below, above;

    Well frame the measure of our souls,

    They shall be tuo love.

    Then e, my sister! e, I pray,

    With speed put on your woodland dress,

    And bring no book; for this one day

    Well give to idleness.

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