UP! up, my friend! and quit your books, Or surely you'll grow double; Up! up, my friend! and clear your looks! Why all this toil and trouble? The sun, above the mountain's head, A freshening lustre mellow Through all the long green fields has spread, His first sweet evening yellow. Books! 't is a dull and endless strife; Come, hear the woodland linnet -- How sweet his music! on my life, There's more of wisdom in it! 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. She has a world of ready wealth, Our minds and hearts to bless, -- Spontaneous wisdom breathed by health, Truth breathed by cheerfulness. One impulse from a vernal wood May teach you more of man, Of moral evil and of good, Than all the sages can. Sweet is the lore which nature brings; Our meddling intellect Misshapes the beauteous forms of things -- We murder to dissect. Enough of science and of art; Close up those barren leaves; Come forth, and bring with you a heart That watches and receives. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WHAT DO I CARE by SARA TEASDALE JOHN WINTER by LAURENCE BINYON GERANIUMS by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON MY PRAYER by HENRY DAVID THOREAU PEPITA by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH JEFFERSON DAVIS by WALKER MERIWETHER BELL DESIRE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE |