WHEN we were idlers with the loitering rills, br The need of human love we little noted: br    Our love was nature; and the peace that floated br On the white mist, and dwelt upon the hills, br To sweet accord subdued our wayward wills: br    One soul was ours, one mind, one heart devoted, br    That, wisely doting, ask'd not why it doted, br And ours the unknown joy, which knowing kills. br But now I find how dear thou wert to me; br    That man is more than half of nature's treasure, br Of that fair beauty which no eye can see, br    Of that sweet music which no ear can measure; br    And now the streams may sing for others' pleasure, br The hills sleep on in their eternity.