Lyrics

Up! up! my friend, and quit your books, Or surely you'll grow double: Up! up! my friend, and clear your looks, Why all this toil and trouble? The sun above the mountain's head, A freshening lustre mellow, Through all the long green fields has spread, His first sweet evening yellow. Books! 'tis a dull and endless strife, Come, hear the woodland linnet, How sweet his music; on my life There's more of wisdom in it. And hark! how blithe the throstle sings! And he is no mean preacher; Come forth into the light of things, Let Nature be your teacher. She has a world of ready wealth, Our minds and hearts to bless- Spontaneous wisdom breathed by health, Truth breathed by cheerfulness. One impulse from a vernal wood May teach you more of man; Of moral evil and of good Than all the sages can. Sweet is the lore which nature brings; Our meddling intellect Mishapes the beauteous forms of things -We murder to dissect. Enough of science and of art; Close up these barren leaves; Come forth, and bring with you a heart That watches and receives.