I found a piece of paper on the floor. As we have high standards re household orderliness I picked it up. Written on it, in blue ink and a small neat hand are the following words:
Mute is thy wild harp now O Bard Sublime
Who, amid Scotia's mountain solitude
Nature taught to build the lofty rhyme
And even beneath the daily pressure,rude
of the labouring poverty, thy generous
blood fired with the love of freedom--
not subdued.
Wert thou by the low fortune But a time
like this, when the abject chime
of
And that was it. Another thing for me to chase up.
Mute is thy wild harp now O Bard Sublime
Who, amid Scotia's mountain solitude
Nature taught to build the lofty rhyme
And even beneath the daily pressure,rude
of the labouring poverty, thy generous
blood fired with the love of freedom--
not subdued.
Wert thou by the low fortune But a time
like this, when the abject chime
of
And that was it. Another thing for me to chase up.