OVER the reaches of meadow traced with the sinuous roadway,
Over the breeze-courted grasses and over the cloud-shadowed pastures,
Far out beyond the broad fields flock-specked and flower-besprinkled,
Under the liberal shade, and close by the still, winding river,
There would I be, and would yield without let to the soul's aspiration;
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Hid from the stare of the world by the rough-clad sentinel mountain,
Soft in the listening ear of the stream would I whisper my longings.
B.
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