Note 289 — 1817
Reading edition
1820.
Who comes not hither can he know How beautiful the Vale below? Companion of the Brook that leaps And twines adown the rocky steeps, As if impatient for the plain. I utter a repentant strain, And this the burden—cares enthral And troubles crush—but spite of all The weak are tempted to, the wicked dare, ms. Our lot is good, our portion fair.