The Bird did prance — the Bee did play —
The Sun ran miles away
So blind with joy he could not choose
Between his Holiday
The morn was up — the meadows out
The Fences all but ran,
Republic of Delight, I thought
Where each is Citizen —
From Heavy laden Lands to thee
Were seas to cross to come
A Caspian were crowded —
Too near thou art for Fame —
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