Three golden months while summer on us stole br I have read your joyful tale another time, br Breathing more freely in that larger clime br And learning wiselier to deserve the whole. br br Your Spirit, Master, has been close at hand br And guided me, still pointing treasures rare, br Thick-sown where I before saw nothing fair br And finding waters in the barren land, br br Barren once thought because my eyes were dim. br Like one I am grown to whom the common field br And often-wandered copse one morning yield br New pleasures suddenly; for over him br br Falls the weird spirit of unexplained delight, br New mystery in every shady place, br In every whispering tree a nameless grace, br New rapture on the windy seaward height. br br So may she come to me, teaching me well br To savour all these sweets that lie to hand br In wood and lane about this pleasant land br Though it be not the land where I would dwell.