A cheerful life is what the Muses love, A soaring spirit is their prime delight.

A famous man is Robin Hood The English ballad-singer's joy.

A few strong instincts and a few plain rules.

A host of golden daffodils; Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

A man he seems of cheerful yesterdays, And confident to-morrows.

A tale in everything.

Among the dwellings framed by birds In field or forest with nice care, Is none that with the little wren's In snugness may compare.

And beauty, for confiding youth, Those shocks of passion can prepare That kill the bloom before its time, And blanch, without the owner's crime, The most resplendent hair.

And hark! how blithe the throstle sings! He, too, is no mean preacher: Come forth into the light of things, Let Nature be your teacher.

And hear the mighty stream of tendency Uttering, for elevation of our thought, A clear sonorous voice, inaudible To the vast multitude.