These are the gatherings of passive days: Who chides me, then, for winnowing at will? May I not have a loftier purpose still Than coveting the inadvertent praise? There are, I know, stray bitter ones among. Some may be tasteless, and a few are sweet; Beneath the trees I came with tarrying feet And knew the fields wherein the choicest hung; But passed with these perhaps a scanty store. I heard the reapers in the fallow grain, I saw the bluebirds circling in the lane, And felt that after all the best is poor. The best Is poor: for we are given dreams That drift like wanton clouds against the west. Not every grief by reasoning is redressed. Not every joy Is stranded in our themes.
(Typographical errors above are due to OCR software and don't occur in the book.)

About the Publisher

Forgotten Books is a publisher of historical writings, such as: Philosophy, Classics, Science, Religion, History, Folklore and Mythology.

Forgotten Books' Classic Reprint Series utilizes the latest technology to regenerate facsimiles of historically important writings. Careful attention has been made to accurately preserve the original format of each page whilst digitally enhancing the aged text. Read books online for free at www.forgottenbooks.org