Imagination (given us to bring down

WE overstate the ills of life, and take

We sigh so loud, the nightingale九*九*藏*书*网 within

To cover all the corn; we walk upon

Of taking vainly, in

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a plaintive mood,

The holy name of GRIEF !--holy herein

And pant like climbers: near the alder brake

Refuses to sing loud, as else she would.

O brothers, let九-九-藏-书-网 us leave the shame and sin

By Gods clear glory) down our earth to rake

The dismal snows instead, flake following flake九九藏书,

The choirs of singing angels overshone

The shadow of hills across a level thrown,

That by the grief of ONE came all our good.