William Lisle Bowles (1762–1850)

BEAUTIFUL Landscape! I could look on thee

For hours, unmindful of the storm and strife

And mingled murmurs of tumultuous life.

Here, all is still as fair,—the stream, the tree,

The wood, the sunshine on the bank; no tear,—

No thought of Time’s swift wing, or closing night,

Which comes to steal away the long sweet light,—

No sighs of sad humanity are here.

Here is no tint of mortal change; the day,

Beneath whose light the dog and peasant boy

Gambol, with look and almost bark of joy,

Still seems, though centuries have passed, to stay:

Then gaze again, that shadowed scenes may teach

Lessons of peace and love, beyond all speech.