Page:Poems by William Wordsworth (1815) Volume 2.djvu/122

114 Edward will come with you; and pray,

Put on with speed your woodland dress;

And bring no book: for this one day

We'll give to idleness.

No joyless forms shall regulate

Our living Calendar:

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 fifty years of reason:

Our minds shall drink at every pore

The spirit of the season.

Some silent laws our hearts may make,

Which they shall long obey:

We for the year to come may take

Our temper from to-day.