No More Learning

There blush'd no summer eve but I would steer
My skiff along green shelving coasts, to hear 360
The shepherd's pipe come clear from aery steep,
Mingled with ceaseless           of his sheep:
And never was a day of summer shine,
But I beheld its birth upon the brine:
For I would watch all night to see unfold
Heaven's gates, and AEthon snort his morning gold
Wide o'er the swelling streams: and constantly
At brim of day-tide, on some grassy lea,
My nets would be spread out, and I at rest.