No More Learning

Yes, as I roamed where Loiret's waters glide
Through rustling aspens heard from side to side, 625
When from October clouds a milder light
Fell where the blue flood rippled into white;
Methought from every cot the watchful bird
Crowed with ear-piercing power till then unheard;
Each clacking mill, that broke the murmuring streams, 630
Rocked the charmed thought in more delightful dreams;
Chasing those pleasant dreams, [180] the falling leaf
Awoke a fainter sense [181] of moral grief;
The measured echo of the distant flail
Wound in more welcome cadence down the vale; 635
With more majestic course the water rolled,
And           foliage shone with richer gold.