The School Boy

I love to rise in a summer morn.
When the birds sing on every tree;
The distant hunt man winds his horn'
And the Skylark sings with me
o! what sweet company.

But to go to school in summer morn,
o! it drives all joy away;
Under a cruel eye outworn,
The little ones spend the day,

Ah! then at times I drooping sit
And spend many an anxious hour.
Nor sit in learning's bower
Worn thro with the dreary shower.
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Boat sails in the rivers,
and ships sail on the seas;
but clouds that sail across the sky,
are prettier far than these.
there are bridges on the rivers,
as pretty as you please
;but the bow that bridges heaven

and overtops the trees
and builds a road from earth to sky,
is prettier far than these
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