"But tell me child, your choice, your fancy; what to buy You?" -- "Father, what you buy me I shall like best." With the sweetest earnest air his purport, once expressed, Ever he swung to, push what plea I might and ply Him. Ah, what the heart is! Like the carriers let fly -- Doff darkness: homing nature, nature knows the rest -- Heart to its own fine function, wild and self-instressed, Falls as light as, life-long, schooled to what and why. Heart mannerly is more than handsome face, Beauty's bearing or muse of mounting vein; And what when, as in this case, bathed in high hallowing grace?" Of heaven then now what boon to buy you, boy, or gain Not granted? None but this, all your road your race To match and more than match its sweet forestalling strain. |