William Cowper

How soft the music of those village bells,
Falling at interval upon the ear
In cadence sweet; read more

How soft the music of those village bells,
Falling at interval upon the ear
In cadence sweet; now dying all away,
Now pealing loud again, and louder still,
Clear and sonorous, as the gale comes on!
With easy force it opens all the cells
Where Memory slept.

I would not have a slave to till my ground,
To carry me, to fan me while I sleep,
read more

I would not have a slave to till my ground,
To carry me, to fan me while I sleep,
And tremble when I wake, for all the wealth
That sinews bought and sold have ever earn'd.

A kick that scarce would move a horse,
May kill a sound divine.

A kick that scarce would move a horse,
May kill a sound divine.

Ever let the Fancy roam,
Pleasure never is at home.

Ever let the Fancy roam,
Pleasure never is at home.

He stands erect; his slouch becomes a walk;
He steps right onward, martial in his air,
His read more

He stands erect; his slouch becomes a walk;
He steps right onward, martial in his air,
His form and movement.