27

‘ BUT tell me, child, your choice; what shall I buy

You?’ —‘ Father, what you buy me I like best.’

With the sweetest air that said, still plied and pressed,

He swung to his first poised purport of reply.

What the heart is! which, like carriers let fly —

Doff darkness, homing nature knows the rest —

To its own fine function, wild and self-instressed,

Falls light as ten years long taught how to and why.

Mannerly-hearted! more than handsome face —

Beauty's bearing or muse of mounting vein,

All, in this case, bathed in high hallowing grace...

Of heaven what boon to buy you, boy, or gain

Not granted?— Only... O on that path you pace

Run all your race, O brace sterner that strain!