HE wind blows down the largest tree,
And yet the wind I cannot see!
Playmates far off, who have been kind,
My thought can bring before my mind;
The past by it is present brought,
And yet I cannot see my thought;
The charming rose scents all the air,
Yet I can see no perfume there.
Blithe Robin's notes how sweet, how clear!
From his small bill they reach my ear,
And whilst upon the air they float,
I hear, yet cannot see a note.
When I would do what is forbid,
By something in my heart I'm chid;
When good,
I think, then quick and pat,
That something says, "My child, do that:" When I too near the stream would go,
So pleased to see the waters flow, That something says, without a sound, "Take care, dear child, you may be drown'd: " And for the poor whene'er I grieve,
That something says, "A penny give." Thus something very near must be,
Although invisible to me;
Whate'er I do, it sees me still:
O then, good Spirit, guide my will.
