Page:The Poetical Works of William Motherwell, 1849.djvu/196

 Nonentity these shadows be,—and yet, good Lord! how brave That knavish rout doth strut and flout, then shrink into the grave!

The Wilderness breathes gentleness;—these waters bubbling free, The gallant breeze that stirs the trees, form Heaven's own melody; The far-stretched sky, with its bright eye, pours forth a tide of love On every thing that here doth spring, on all that glows above. But live with man,—his dark heart scan,—its paltry selfishness Will show to thee, why men like me, love the lone Wilderness!