THE SOLITARY MAN 319
Yet larger love of men Hath the world-citizen. He moves within a wider sphere, And all mankind to him are dear. He who the men of many climes hath known Finds virtue's flowers in other lands have grown, While he who stays at home all goodness deems his own.
But who, with calm delight. Views through his glass at night The silent heavens, and sees the skies All twinkling with ten thousand eyes. And deems each one a living world to be. He'll scarce be bound to earth ; his soul would flee To dwell with distant stars in loving harmony.
While God, who from on high Holds all things in his eye, From the vast chain of circling spheres To the small orbs of human tears. To such an infinite sympathy expands. His charity all space, all time, commands. And loves the world the more, since wrought by his own hands.
Good soul ! Still all alone, Muse on thy mossy stone. Why should I thy sweet peace deride . Still watch thy cows ; the world is wide ; And, if I e'er mount nearer heaven than thou. This is my shame, to wear a cloudy brow, Whilst thou art worshipping as well as thou knowest how.
Nay, even yon hare hard by.
Who cannot look more high Than the green herbs that brush his nose. Cropping the fresh leaves as he goes,
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